


Foxhound and the Prince

by placebo



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: M/M, Magic AU, Royalty AU, Steampunk AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-10
Updated: 2019-01-10
Packaged: 2019-09-24 01:04:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17091149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/placebo/pseuds/placebo
Summary: On the night of her eighteenth, Jihyo disappears. She leaves nothing behind except for a small, brass compass for her younger brother. Six years later, Jisung goes to find her.Foxhound is an airship only spoken about in stories, full of danger and secrets, and she is Jisung’s only chance.





	Foxhound and the Prince

**Author's Note:**

  * For [poetkjh](https://archiveofourown.org/users/poetkjh/gifts).



> whew... this was a wild ride! 
> 
> the actual prompt i was given was uh... tattoos. so they appear in this and play a decent role, but otherwise i’ve gone very far off track!
> 
> to all my friends who helped me with this and reassured me its not shit: thanku so much, i love u so so so much  
> to poetkjh: merry christmas! i hope u enjoy this!  
> and to everyone else: merry christmas and happy holidays, wishing u all the best for 2019!

_I’m left to rely on a broken compass,_

_To swim in an open sea_

 

 

-

 

Jisung travels on a ship for the first time _ever_ when he is only five, brought along with his Father on an expedition to scout out areas surrounding London on a large airship. At first he’s apprehensive - his older sister isn’t allowed to come, and neither is his best friend Dahyun, who is nothing more but the daughter of one of Jihyo’s maids.

He doesn't know what his father is doing either - he's too young to understand, but he knows it involves talking to lots of old fancy people who smile and Jisung and ruffle his hair, referring to his dad as _Your Majesty_ and Jisung as _Young Prince_ . It won’t be a _bad_ experience, but it'll be boring without Jihyo or Dahyun to play with.

As it turns out, he discovers two things that day on the ship. One is his newfound love for ships - air-faring and sea-faring, climbing up to the crow’s nest with one of the crew, running along the deck with a toy sword (he’s too young for a real one, his father says) and play fighting like he’s a pirate. The second is his new friend, Hwang Hyunjin, who he does all these with.

Hyunjin is his age - a few months older, he proudly proclaims. It’s better than the gap between Jisung and Dahyun, who is two years older than Jisung and likes to shove it in his face sometimes. Even better than the six year gap between Jisung and Jihyo.

According to his father, Hyunjin and Jisung get along like two peas in a pod. Jisung doesn’t know what that means, but he agrees anyway.

“As future King, I command you to be my new best friend!” he announces, puffing out his chest.

“You’re not the king yet,” Hyunjin replies. “You can’t tell me what to do!”

Jisung pouts, and then, thinking as quickly as a five-year-old can manage, points his wooden sword at Hyunjin. “If you don’t become my best friend, I will cut your head off!”

Hyunjin smiles widely and giggles. “I’ll still be your best friend.”

And just like that, Jisung finds his best friend for the next two weeks he spends on the ship. Hyunjin already knows everything about the ship - except the areas deemed unsafe for the young kids - so he and Jisung spend their time hiding from the adults on the ship and pretending to be pirates.

Two weeks pass quickly, and Hyunjin and Jisung's bond continues to grow through the games they play. It isn't until they arrive home, docking the ship and beginning to climb off, when a problem arises.

Jisung doesn't want to leave, that much is obvious, but Hyunjin doesn't want Jisung to leave either. It takes multiple hours and even more weepy outbursts from both Hyunjin and Jisung before the King offers Hyunjin's mother a place to stay at the palace, for Hyunjin and herself, while Hyunjin's father is on his long journeys. It doesn't take much to convince Hyunjin's mother to say yes, especially when two young children are training their best puppy eyes on her.

Hyunjin has moved in within the next week, and once Jisung introduces him to Dahyun the two of them hit it off immensely, despite being five and seven years old. Dahyun and Jisung show Hyunjin the hidden passages within the palace, all the fun places to hide in and play in, just like Hyunjin had shown Jisung on the ship, and all the while Dahyun questions Hyunjin about ship life.

"Have you seen any _real_ pirates?" she asks one morning, trekking through a secret passageway that leads to the kitchens.

Hyunjin shakes his head. "Daddy says it's too dangerous to go where the pirates are. He says one day I'll _fight_ a pirate for _real_ but I need to be old enough to fight properly, or I won't win." He pauses. "I don't think I want to fight a pirate. It doesn't sound fun."

Dahyun sighs in disappointment. "I've never even been on a _ship._ Not a sea ship _or_ an air ship. My mama used to say they're not for little girls like me."

"It's okay. Ships are kind of boring anyway," Hyunjin says, and that's that.

 

-

 

On Jisung's sixth birthday, Jihyo gifts him a massive picture book, _older than time itself,_ she says. She sneaks into his room late that night ( _late_ for a six-year-old, at least), and opens the book to a grand picture of two ships. Jisung soaks up every word as she speaks - Jihyo may be a lot older than him (she's double his age - he's only learning to add and subtract but he knows that _six plus six equals twelve)_ but Jisung worships his sister, and his sister loves and adores Jisung.

“You see these airships, Sungie?”

Jisung nods.

“This one,” she points to the largest ship, her fingers tracing the pencilled-in mast delicately, “is _Aureus_ . The small one is _Foxhound._ There’s a very sad story attached to them. I’ll read it to you if you want.”

The words wash over Jisung as he stares, enthralled, at the images accompanying the text.

“Like humans, all ships have a heart. Hearts are very important, you see, for they allow our bodies to run, to live, to breathe. Without a heart, we would be nothing. Ships are very much like that. They all have a heart, a mechanical heart nestled away, keeping the ship running on steam when sails fail us.

“And, like humans, no two hearts are the same. Some beat faster, some slower, and some, well, some of those hearts are _truly_ different. The heart keeps the ship alive, but Aureus and Foxhound are more alive than most, and their hearts are like no other.

“Aureus and Foxhound were built by two brothers in a faraway land unknown by all. The eldest brother built Aureus, massive and spectacular, grander than any airship in existence, while the youngest worked on Foxhound, a smaller, more modest airship. Furthermore, the ships were interwoven with _magic essence,_ breathing a true life into the ships that didn’t exist in others. The magic was stored in two places: the heart, and the figurehead.

“For a while the ships ran perfectly. The brothers enjoyed their air-faring life, travelling the clear skies with their two ships and their crews. They found wives, began to settle down, but still travelled often, roaming the skies in the real world and their world, meeting new people and exploring different cultures, until…” Jihyo pauses for dramatic effect, and Jisung’s head whips up.

“Until what?” he says, as quiet as a six-year-old can manage, excitement brimming in his voice. Jihyo laughs at his enthusiasm, and continues in her hushed whisper.

“Until, tragedy fell upon the eldest brother. One night, while taking a journey to a land foreign to him, Aureus was raided by pirates. They damaged Aureus badly - she was ripped apart from the bow to the stern, sails torn from the masts and holes punched through the deck. All of it was superficial, and could be easily fixed. All except the heart. The heart was the most damaged of them all, and the heart was most important of all. Not even the mechanic, who knew the ship like the back of his own hand, could fix the heart fully. It seemed like Aureus was doomed to die.

“Distraught, the eldest brother docked in the first place he could, right before Aureus gave out and collapsed under her own weight. From then on, the brother was at a loss. He spend weeks trying to fix Aureus to no avail. Then, one day, a man approached the brother and offered to fix his ship for a price. A _heavy_ price.

“His demand was simple. When the eldest brother’s wife gave birth, the man would take that child, and the second to come along. The brother accepted without hesitation, and just like that, Aureus was fixed. Almost. Her heart was never truly the same again, but she was alive once more and the brother could travel home safely.

“Before he left, he realised he might not recognise the man later on, as he was partially concealed away and his voice was unrecognisable to the brother. So he asked, _how can I know it’s you coming to collect your payment?_ Part of him wanted the man to say nothing more and go on his way, but the man just smiled and pointed to something attached to the brother’s belt.

“It was a mask. Half cat, half machine, beautifully crafted and fully operational. _Give me that,_ the man said. _Give me that mask, and I will be wearing it when I collect my payment._ The brother was hesitant, but ended up giving it over eventually.

“For a while, he forgot about the man’s demands. He didn’t go travelling on Aureus as often, deciding he wanted to spend more time with his wife and his brother’s family. The two brothers would take Aureus and Foxhound on trips together, never going very far from home, but they were content for years.

‘Then, one night, the eldest brother’s wife announced she was pregnant. He was _overjoyed_ when he heard the news. The deal he had made with the man had been completely forgotten about, and both he and his wife were ready to accept a child into the family.

"The wife gave birth to a daughter, and for a week or so everything was calm. But the brother couldn't help but feel there was something strange, something he had forgotten about. It wasn't until he walked outside his house one day to find the man from years ago standing there, waiting for him, that same cat mask perched on his face, that he remembered the deal he made.

"At first he begged and pleaded with the man not to take his daughter. He hadn't told his wife about the deal, hadn't told _anyone,_ he wanted to keep the child for himself. But the man just smile at the brother and walked inside."

Jisung gasps. "Why didn't they fight more?"

Jihyo shrugs. "It was an older time. The eldest brother made a deal, and he had to keep true to it. Magic is like that, too. You make a binding oath, and if you don’t go through with it, _horrible_ things happen.”

Jisung gasps again, his mind already racing with the sorts of _horrible_ things that could happen. “What kinds of horrible things?”

Jihyo giggles and ruffles Jisung’s hair. “You’ll know when you’re older, Sungie. Anyway, Aureus was special to him. More special than a child, so he kept his promise. Within an hour, the child was gone." There's something off about Jihyo's voice, something that makes Jisung uncomfortable, and he flips the next page himself, wanting Jihyo to go back to reading. Jihyo shakes her head as if trying to snap out of something, then returns to the book.

"The wife was furious with the eldest brother. Even the younger brother was outraged. How could he let his child go like that? It took _months_ for the eldest brother to be even a _little bit_ forgiven, and at that point the wife had made a plan. The next time they had a child, which wouldn't be in a very long time, they would hide it away. The eldest brother had no choice but to agree with this, but he still had doubts.

"The next child in the family actually belonged to the younger brother and _his_ wife. She was also a girl, and for a few months she was kept hidden too. The younger may have forgiven his brother, but he still didn't trust him to know if he would lose his child or not. But nothing happened to them, and the young girl would eventually grow up with them on _Foxhound,_ eventually captaining the ship when her father died.

"The eldest brother's second child was born a year after the younger's daughter. He was a little boy this time, and the brother was instantly worried. He knew most people preferred sons over daughters, and he felt that the man was no different. He knew, deep down inside, that the man would do anything to get the elder's son. And he did. He came a week after the son was born, that same cat mask on his face, and took the son with him.

“But the brother had a plan. Without telling anyone, he placed a spell on the young boy and summoned two guardian angels, tying them to the young boy. He prayed that, when the boy grew older, the angels would help guide him home. To this day, he hasn’t told a single _soul_ about this, except for whoever picks up this book.

"After his son was taken, the family fell apart. The eldest brother, angry at himself and jealous of his younger brother's daughter, who was a year old at the time, split any connection from Aureus and Foxhound, throwing his brother out of his will. He disappeared and spend a year in the air, his only companions being Aureus and his crew. When he returned, the younger brother had left with Foxhound, his wife and daughter. No matter how long the eldest brother waited, Foxhound never returned, ever.

"And as for the wife? She disappeared one night. The eldest brother searched everywhere for her, but found nothing. To this day she is still missing, and the brother continues to search for her on Aureus, to no avail. Nobody knows if she is dead or alive, but she is out there, somewhere, and if she is still alive, one day she may return to her husband.

“Believe this story all you want, or don’t believe it. But it is the truth, and nothing but the truth. This book will not make it far, but I sincerely pray it reaches the ones who need it most.” Jihyo finishes the story with a flourish, shutting the book dramatically. “And you know what, Jisung?”

“What?”

"One day I'm going to find Aureus. And I'll run away and find this new land, and I’ll find the missing wife too."

Jisung's eyes widen in amazement. He turns to Jihyo, clinging to her arm excitedly. "Will you take me too?" Jihyo takes a while to reply, biting her lip. " _Please,_ Jihyo, _please?_ You know I _love_ ships!"

Jihyo smiles and pats Jisung's head reassuringly. "Of course, Sungie."

Jisung is too young to recognise when Jihyo is lying, but he can sense when something is off. He narrows his eyes at her, then says, in the firmest voice he can muster, “promise?”

“Promise.”

That night Jisung falls asleep and dreams of ships and magic and adventures.

 

-

 

When Jisung is eight, he can say with certainty that he has three best friends. His older sister is the first, his best friend since he had been born and she was six, who whispers secrets about Aureus to Jisung when they sit for meals with the rest of the family. But while Jihyo is obsessed with Aureus, Jisung finds himself fixated on the smaller ship. Maybe because he's younger - like the younger brother in the story, he's smaller and Foxhound is smaller, more mysterious. Maybe, too, it's because Foxhound _disappeared._ Jihyo may want to find Aureus and the lost wife, but Jisung wants to find Foxhound. He's not the only one, either.

Dahyun is the second best friend, and the most like Jisung - for a ten year old, anyway. She has a similar lively energy and mischievous spirit, the same interest in ships as Jisung has. Before Jisung could read properly, Dahyun would help teach him with the book about Aureus and Foxhound, showing Jisung how to trace the letters of the author's name. Though she's never been on one before, she's allowed much more freedom and has definitely _seen_ a lot of ships on her trips outside the city. She swears up and down ("cross my chest and hope to die, stick a needle in my eye," she chants, before regaling Jisung with her tales) that she's _seen_ Foxhound before, that she knows the younger brother's daughter, recognising the drawings of her in the book. There's no name attached to the girl or the brother in the book, but sometimes Dahyun murmurs a name Jisung doesn't catch.

(He has no idea how she would have met the captain’s daughter, especially because they live in a magical land far away from England, but Dahyun is ten and therefore wiser and more experienced than Jisung, so she must know something.)

Hyunjin is Jisung's final best friend. He's tutored at the same time as Jisung, and the two often go off together on their own, when Dahyun is busy learning how to take care of princesses and other stuff maids do. Hyunjin is a lot like Jisung but very different in many ways, too. Despite being literally _born_ into the air-faring life (his mother had gone into labour while on a return journey from Korea to England) he shows very little interest in ships. Jisung had showed him the story of Aureus and Foxhound once, but after Hyunjin hadn't showed much interest he had decided to keep the story for just Dahyun and himself.

“Father told me those ships don’t exist,” he had said once, then never again after Jisung burst into tears over it, adamant in their existence.

Jisung actually doesn’t speak to Hyunjin for a whole week after that. Hyunjin apologises profusely afterwards, and the two of them return to their usual friendship.

 

-

 

On the night of her eighteenth, Jihyo disappears. She leaves nothing behind except for a small, brass compass for her younger brother.

That morning, Jisung is shaken awake by Dahyun. She’s frantic in her movements, tugging Jisung into a sitting position so that she can look him in the eyes. Jisung’s only eleven now, and Dahyun thirteen, but he feels older when he sees the shine in her eyes from unshed tears, the trembling in her lips and hands that tell him something is wrong.

"Your sister," Dahyun whispers, her eyes darting to the door like she's afraid a guard will overhear. "She's gone missing."

The palace falls into chaos soon after, the King and Queen bursting into hysterics when they find out. Dahyun is taken away for questioning - all Jihyo’s maids are - and Jisung doesn’t know it yet, but it’s the last time he ever sees Dahyun for almost seven years.

(“I’ll be back,” she whispers, grabbing his hand tightly and squeezing it once before she’s pulled away by the other maids. “Don’t worry about me.”)

News outlets are quick to report on the matter, and when Jisung sneaks out of the palace with Hyunjin to get away from the _mess,_ he spots newsboys on every corner hollering about the _Missing Princess! Missing Princess! Princess Jihyo has disappeared just hours before her coronation!_ Hyunjin tries to shield him from the noise, but it’s too late.

Jisung is only eleven, but it’s then that the reality hits him that he’s lost two of the most important people in his life.

A week later, Jisung finds the gift Jihyo's left him. It's hidden away in the royal library, in a corner they used to play in when they were a lot younger, tucked between two cushions. Sealed in a brass case, nestled in velvet, sits a small compass that doesn't point north, attached to a thin bronze chain.

A note accompanies it, written in Jihyo's elegant scrawl.

_I’m sorry I broke my promise. Come find me when you’re older, little brother, and I’ll explain everything._

Jisung hangs the broken compass around his neck, tucking it under his shirt. From that moment on, he never takes it off for longer than a few minutes. The book Jihyo gifted him all those years ago finds its way under Jisung’s bed, tucked away in a small alcove only Jisung can see, collecting dust.

 

-

 

_Dear Jisungie,_

_You've probably heard. All of Jihyo's maids were "relieved" of their duty under suspicion of misconduct. Everyone thinks we're partly responsible for her disappearance. That includes me.I can't enter the palace or even go near it or I'll be arrested, so I've given this letter to Mina, the fruit shop owner. I'm sure she'll find you._

_The truth is, we kind of_ were _responsible. Jihyo tells us everything. She told us her plan to escape. She told us she found Aureus. And she told us not to tell anyone, even you. I'm so sorry, Sungie. You must think I'm a horrible person._

_I'm leaving the country. By the time you get this letter, I'll have already left. But I'll finally be able to board a ship! I've never been on one before. I'm excited. I just wish I could have had this experience with you. Please don't try to find me. Just know that I'm alive. I'm well. I'll stay alive as long as it takes to see you again. I don't know how long that will be, but I'll return, and I'll be back with something important._

_Don't forget about me, please. I'll see you soon._

_Love, your best friend._

 

-

 

When Hyunjin is fourteen his father decides he wants Hyunjin to follow in his footsteps, whisking him away on a two-month journey to learn more about captaining a ship. He leaves abruptly with no more than a day’s warning, and just like that Jisung is alone.

He manages for a while, caught up in his own studies and training that he's able to distract himself from the loneliness for a while. It's only a night when it gets hard - lying in the darkness, unable to sneak out to anyone (not even his parents, as much as he loves them, allow him in their room), that Jisung feels alone.

Not just alone either. Lonely.

It's on one of those nights, when the darkness overwhelms him and he feels lonelier than ever, when he picks up the book about Aureus and Foxhound, decides to really look into it. He fumbles in the dark for his small lamp, the light flickering on as he tugs the heavy book from underneath his bed. Brushing off the dust, he traces the author's name, lettered in a fancy silver font underneath the title.

_Christopher Bang._

Jisung's never met anyone with that name. He doesn't recognise it outside of the book, either. An English name with a Korean surname. Not necessarily uncommon here - even Jisung, though he goes by his Korean name he has an English one, _Peter,_ though it's rarely used - though still uncommon enough for it to be recognisable if such a man _did_ exist in England.

There's a knock on Jisung's door and he freezes, slipping the book under his pillow before the door cracks open and a head pops through.

"Prince," a guard says (Eric, Jisung thinks his name is. He's a new kid, still being trained.) "His Majesty requires your company."

"This late?" Jisung questions, though Eric can't do much other than shrug, so he allows a maid to slip in and pull out clothes for Jisung to wear, simple but elegant, better than his nightwear, to appear presentable to the king.

The king's quarters are in a separate wing of the castle, distanced from everyone including Jisung, who travels with Eric by his side. Eric halts at a room next to the king's bedroom, a study that Jisung has always been denied entry into, his father claiming he was too young to enter. Now, it seems, he's not.

The King is sat at his desk, puzzling over a set of documents when Jisung peeks timidly in. With some kind of sixth sense, he glances up, then gestures for Jisung to join him.

"Father," Jisung bows, takes a seat at the table across from the king. "Why call me at such a late hour?"

His father smiles warmly at him, setting his pen down and leaning back in his chair. "Jisung. You know by now, that as our only prince, you will someday be crowned King."

Jisung nods, unsure where this is going.

"You will be required to complete _many_ royal duties as King, but you must be prepared."

"What do you mean?" Jisung asks, tilting his head to the side. The king chuckles.

"I want you to get involved in some of the royal business from this end," he explains. "You will spend a few hours a day in this office, reading through royal inquiries and requests from the general public and dealing with them in any manner you see fit."

"What - already?" Jisung straightens up immediately, something swimming in his gut. Apprehension, excitement, he's not sure. He's known for a while that he'll be forced to complete things as King, he hadn't known how soon he would be taught _how._

"I trust you, Jisung."

The King claps Jisung on the shoulder, standing up and exiting the room. "I'll be back in a little while, so spend some time getting acquainted with this place. It's your room now, too. All this," he waves his hand around, "is yours. You'll see it a lot more when you're crowned King."

Jisung nods, then reclines in his chair. The room is stuffed full of memorabilia, trinkets that must have been gathered from years and years of kingly duties, travelling to other countries for diplomatic reasons.

Figures from all over Asia - mechanical toys that whir every few seconds, gifts from America, bronze masks and goggles reminiscent of the vintage American style. On the desk sits a watch, a mechanical pencil and sheets of paper, a small bronze whale that floats when turned on, swimming through the air and leaping about as if breaking through the surface of the ocean. A model ship which, like the whale, floats around the room. It's the same magic energy that keeps airships from sinking, just to a lesser extent. Jisung wonders if it's one of the original models - back when airships were a mere fantasy, an idea of what could be, rather than reality.

By far the most interesting thing in the room, however, was the mask on the wall opposite the desk. Shaped like a cat's head, one half made with a soft velvety material as if mimicking real fur, while the other half is brass cogs and wheels, whirring softly when Jisung unhooks it from the wall, turning it in his hands. It's almost like it's purring.

A weird kind of Dejavu settles over him, the feeling like he's seen this before, felt it in his hands before. He doesn't think he has, and it takes a while to pinpoint where he recognises the mask.

_The book._

Jisung gasps softly, turning the mask over again to look at the features. The book never really described the mask. _Half cat, half machine._ He strokes his thumb over the velvety side. It's almost warm to the touch.

"Do you like it?"

Jisung startles at the sound of his father's voice, turning to see him smiling from the doorway. He gestures to the mask with his eyes. "The mask. Do you like it?"

Jisung nods. "I think I - read about it somewhere."

The king laughs lowly. "In a book about ships?"

"How did you-"

"I had that book once, before it was stolen by Ji-" he falters, his grin slipping from his face. Jisung shifts uncomfortably. He hasn't heard his father talk about Jihyo in a while - it's been three years, and her name is still a rough topic. He clears his throat and continues despite the obvious tension in the room. "Anyway, I know all about the story. The author - what was his name again?"

"Christopher," Jisung supplies.

"Ah, yes! Christopher Bang, wonderful guy, I met him when he sold it to me. Told me the book was a true story," he chuckles. "What kind of true story is written in a children's book?"

Jisung forces out a laugh, doesn't tell him that Jihyo fully believed it was a real story (that he still does, sometimes). Something about the king’s tone unnerves him, like he knows more than he’s letting on. Or he’s lying, somehow.

"Anyway, I had this mask made. It's rather beautiful, don't you think?"

It is. Jisung continues to turn it in his hands, unwilling to try it on, not wanting to risk damaging it. He's not sure the king would allow it, either.

"You can keep it, if you like."

His head shooting up, Jisung's eyes widen, a hopeful smile forming on his face. "Can I?"

"Of course."

The mask is hidden away with the book, in a small crevice Jisung is sure is filled with magic, concealing them both from sight.

(Later he’ll ask his father if he knows where to find this _Christopher Bang,_ who just shakes his head and tells him, “sorry, Jisung, he left after he sold me the book and I never saw him since.” Again, Jisung is left with the sense that the king is leaving out information.)

Two days later Jisung receives a letter from Hyunjin. It’s not very long - Hyunjin says he misses Jisung, talks about his trip a bit and spoils the surprise he’s bringing home for Jisung (sweets from abroad, the kind that are rarely shipped to England), finishing with a _see you soon!_

It eases the loneliness in Jisung’s heart, and that night he sleeps peacefully, and when Hyunjin returns, after his two month journey, he brings sweets and gifts for Jisung and promises that he’ll spend the nights with him more often until he’s forced to go on his next journey.

Hyunjin finds his way to Jisung's room the minute he returns to the palace, late at night when Jisung should be asleep, but lies awake in anticipation. He's tugged into Jisung's bed immediately, Jisung wrapping himself around Hyunjin tightly.

"I missed you," he murmurs, as Hyunjin wraps his own arms around Jisung. "Welcome home."

Jisung doesn't fall asleep immediately, lying awake and cherishing the warmth of Hyunjin's arms, the calm that washes over him in time with Hyunjin's breathing.

"It feels strange to be on land," Hyunjin whispers. "I keep trying to adjust my balance when I don't have to."

Jisung hums. "Are you getting used to ships now?"

"Kind of." Hyunjin shifts around. "I still prefer it here."

"With me?"

"With you," he confirms. "Goodnight, Sungie."

"G'night," Jisung replies.

He learns to live like this, with Hyunjin leaving often, for long stretches, while Jisung visits his father’s study and works on _royal duties_ that his father helps with sometimes, but is usually too busy to.

It works, and though Jisung feels lonely at night - it’s hard not to - the letters he receives from Hyunjin make it bearable. He sometimes wishes he could send his own letters, but with Hyunjin constantly travelling, and on a _ship,_ it’s hard, and all he can do is wait for Hyunjin to return.

 

-

 

(Some nights, when loneliness hits him the hardest, he pulls out Dahyun’s letter and reads it over and over again, wondering when she’ll return. Those nights he stays up longer than usual, a small part of him waiting for Dahyun to sneak inside and keep him company, like she did when he was ten. She never appears.)

 

-

 

Jisung hisses as Jeongyeon pulls his belt tight, the brass buckle cold against his skin. "Does this have to be done now?" he whines.

Jeongyeon glares at him.

"Don't be difficult. You have a week until your inauguration, Prince," she says. "Your clothing must be perfect."

Jisung rolls his eyes, but stays quiet as Jeongyeon fusses over him, not-so-patiently waiting for her to finish fitting him. She pauses, moves back a few steps to examine Jisung's suit, and after a moment nods in satisfaction.

"Can I change into something more comfortable now?" Jisung whines. "I feel like I am being suffocated in this."

Jeongyeon heaves out a great sigh, but loosens the ties on Jisung's waistcoat, taking off the belt to tuck away securely.

“If you just took off that damn compass around your neck.” She tugs out another shirt, loose fitting and soft, and presses it into Jisung's hands. “We would have a much easier time.”

“I’m not removing it. Jihyo gave it to me,” Jisung says, hand instinctively closing around the compass.

"Of course, Prince. I understand it’s valuable, but with all due respect, the Princess was much more patient when she got _her_ fitting done. She would have taken it off and not put up a fuss," Jeongyeon grumbles, slipping Jisung’s jacket off and carefully hanging it up. Jisung, frozen by the mention of Jihyo, lets the shirt slip to the floor. He doesn't say anything as Jeongyeon continues to talk.

"She also ran away two nights before, so maybe that doesn't matter either way," Jeongyeon frowns at the shirt now lying on the floor, hisses and swipes it off the floor, shoots another glare at Jisung. He flinches. " _Lord,_ you've dirtied your clothes now! _Why_ did I expect anything different?"

"I can still wear it," Jisung says, hand held out to take the shirt.

Jeongyeon frowns at him, then shoves the shirt in his hands once more. "Are you going to disappear too, Prince? Is that why you dislike these fittings?"

An uncomfortable crawling sensation settles under Jisung’s skin, he flinches when Jeongyeon’s boots _thud_ heavily on the floor, doesn’t say a word as she prattles on about Jihyo and her disappearance.

Jeongyeon doesn't seem to notice Jisung's silence, probably taking it as a blessing, her muttering only pausing when the door swings open.

A small gasp slips from Jeongyeon's lips as she glances at the door, immediately ducking, lowering her head demurely, respectfully, in front of the King. "Your Highness, I was not expecting to see you."

"I'm just here to check on Jisung, and to deliver a message. Is there a problem?" the King asks, voice as gentle as always. "Jeongyeon, you're looking stressed."

Jeongyeon's demeanour instantly changes, plastering on a fake smile as she curtsies before the King. "Nothing's the matter, your Highness. The fitting for Prince Jisung's inauguration is going splendid."

The King grins. "Fantastic! I'm sure you won't mind leaving, then. I need to talk to the Prince alone."

"Not at all, your Highness," Jeongyeon replies, false smile still stretching her mouth wide. She scurries off not a moment later, and Jisung is left alone with his father. He takes a seat near a large window, the sun too low in the sky to shine any light through.

"You usually send someone for me," Jisung says. He's still standing, still clutching the dirty shirt. "What is different now?"

"Your inauguration is soon. I wanted to see the fit Jeongyeon picked for you."

"Oh."

"I must say, Jisung, you look splendid. I know you'll make our country proud. God knows you need to," he mutters like an afterthought, face furrowing slightly. Jisung probably wasn't meant to hear it, he thinks, but the mention of Jihyo, of the controversy their family fell into when they disappeared, makes Jisung feel tense.

"I - thank you, father," he says. "I will do my best to make you proud."

"I know you will," the King stands, ruffles Jisung's hair as he passes by. His hand slips into his pocket and draws out a small, white envelope, Jisung's name scrawled on the front in fancy lettering. He presses it into Jisung's hands. "Take care, Jisung."

He leaves swiftly, and Jisung barely catches a glimpse of the guards accompanying him as the door swings shut. The envelope is marked with the royal navy insignia, the handwriting unmistakably Hyunjin's. Jisung's heart quickens, his mood already lifting.

Hurriedly, he continues changing, stripping his stiff shirt off and slipping on the softer one, the silk cool on his skin. He slips out the fitting room before anyone else (read: Jeongyeon) can catch him and runs back to his room, shutting his door tightly and clambering on his bed, curling up with the letter in hand. He doesn't bother finding something to open the envelope, tearing it open haphazardly and pulling the paper out.

_Dear Jisungie,_

_How have you been? Dad tells me all you're doing right now is preparing for your inauguration. Isn't that exciting?_

_I miss you a lot. I know I say this every time, but ships are boring without you. The crew don't play with me, and now that we're old I have a tutor who forces me to stay inside all day, even if I would want to go outside._

_Nothing much has happened, but we ran out of food and had to make an emergency stop at a port near Italy. I'm here right now. It's rather beautiful, but I can't help but feel sad. I'm writing to you now, in August, but you won't get this letter until it's near your birthday._

_I have bad news. The emergency stop has delayed us a lot. We were supposed to be there for your eighteenth birthday, but now we'll be lucky if we make it home the day of. I'm so sorry. I know I promised I would be there. I've always been there for your birthday, too. I had something I was going to tell you, something I can't tell you through letter, and I had a good present for you too. Something more special than anything before._

_You won't mind receiving it late, I hope?_

_I'll do my very best to arrive home before your birthday, Sungie._

_I love you._

Jisung stares at the letter for a while. Usually, Hyunjin's letters help relieve the loneliness he feels. Instead, the ache in his chest grows stronger. He folds it up carefully, tucks it away with all the other letters, and curls up on his side in bed, blinking away tears.

He's too selfish, wanting Hyunjin to be there for him. He's a prince, he'll be an adult in a week and officially revealed to the public in two, yet he's lying here feeling sorry for himself because one person won't make it.

And sure, Hyunjin is his best friend, means the world to Jisung, but he'll have to get used to Hyunjin missing more birthdays, more important events, off on long adventures once he becomes a captain himself.

As much as Jisung wishes that wasn't the case, he has to be realistic. He’ll marry a princess or the daughter of a duchess and will eventually be crowned king, Hyunjin by his side as captain of the royal navy but not _really_ by his side, exploring the seven seas and travelling far further than Jisung will ever hope to reach.

Jisung clutches his broken compass, tugs it from underneath his shirt and watches the needle stray from north. He’ll never explore like Hyunjin will. He’ll never be able to find whatever the compass points to - will never have the _time._

He turns off his lamp. The darkness threatens to overwhelm him and he flicks it on again, turning back around. He doesn’t know how long he lies there until he falls into a fitful sleep.

When he wakes up the light is still burning and his sheets are kicked off his bed. As his senses come to, he hears a soft _tap tap tap_ from outside, and he freezes. The window is too high to be from a tree and it’s too dark outside for any kind of bird to be awake. Hesitantly, he turns to the window, and almost screams.

He barely recognises the face grinning at him from the window, but the longer he looks, the more he remembers, the more he spots familiar features of the figure outside his room.

Dahyun has changed, but at the same time, she hasn't. Her hair is longer and - _purple_ now, somehow, her clothing is more common and blank ink peeks out from underneath her sleeves, around her neck, streaking down her collar bone. _Tattoos,_ Jisung realises. She's got _tattoos_.

But her cheeky smile still remains, the glimmer in her eyes that always told Jisung she was up to no good, and she's even got the same necklace she's always worn, the golden locket her mother had given to her before she died, still as bright as ever.

Dahyun taps on the window again, and says something Jisung can't hear, and, unfreezing, Jisung goes to unlatch the window, fumbling with the latch as he swings it open and allows Dahyun to jump in.

She's more agile than she used to be, too, he realises. She lands on the floor in a crouch, straightening herself up fully. When Jisung had last seen Dahyun, she had been taller than him. Now he's taller than her - he doesn't tower over her, not quite, but he realises he has to angle his eyes down to look at her now. It's a foreign feeling, and Jisung doesn't like it. They stay like this for a while, just staring at each other, committing each other's faces to memory. Jisung doesn't know what to say.

“Jisungie,” she whispers, her voice just as soft as it used to be. “Look at you, you’re all grown up.”

A single step forward is all Jisung needs to break out of his stupor, feet remembering how to move as he flings himself at Dahyun, arms wrapping tightly around her. He's tall enough to bury his face in the top of her head, Dahyun hooking her chin over his shoulder as they hold each other.

Everything about this is familiar, but at the same time feels so foreign that Jisung can't help but push her away after a few moments. He regrets it the second she slips out of his arms, still smiling up at him in that way that is just so _Dahyun,_ so familiar and comforting that Jisung can't hold back his emotions anymore, a sob wrenching from his throat. His legs nearly give out beneath him and he sits on the edge of his bed, face buried in his hands as he sobs.

He can’t see Dahyun but he feels when she sits next to him, his bed shifting to accommodate her too. She doesn't say anything, but her hand rests on Jisung's shoulder, the touch soft, grounding.

"I told you I would come back," she says, once Jisung's sobs have tapered off. He glances up at her as she wipes away her own tears.

"I can't believe it."

"You didn't give up on me, did you?"

"I could never," Jisung replies. "You told me not to worry, didn't you? Said you were safe. I always believed you."

"You still remember the letter?"

"I still have it." Jisung clambers off the bed, ducks underneath to tug out the heavy book, surface covered in dust. Dahyun's letter is tucked inside the first page, the ink smudged slightly and the marks distinct where Jisung had folded and unfolded the paper countless times, but it's still legible.

"Seven years," he mutters, passing the paper to Dahyun. "I kept this for seven years."

"Not quite. I wouldn't keep you waiting _that_ long," she teases, nudging him playfully.

"Shut up," Jisung replies, pouting. It’s so easy to talk to Dahyun, so easy to pretend like they haven’t just spent seven years apart. “I missed you,” he says not a moment later, leaning into Dahyun’s side.

“I missed you too,” she hums, curling her fingers around Jisung’s hand.

Something moves from outside Jisung’s room, and Dahyun moves in a flash, hovers by the window, looking ready to climb out in a moments notice. Jisung tenses, too, but the movement stops after a few seconds, nothing else happens. Jisung relaxes, but Dahyun is still by the window, hand on the windowsill.

“Stay with me tonight.”

“I can’t. What if someone spots me?”

“Please, Dahyun.”

“I’m sorry. I’ll be back soon.”

“Last time you said that I didn’t see you for seven years.”

“I promise it will not be that long.”

Dahyun waves at Jisung one last time before leaping out the window and disappearing from Jisung’s sight. With a sigh, Jisung slumps back in his bed and stares at the ceiling desolately.

 

-

 

The note appears two days later, wedged into the window. It almost flies away when Jisung open the window to grab it, clinging to it just in time. The message itself, scrawled in blue ink, is short but clear.

_Meet me by Mina's cart tomorrow morning. Make sure you're unidentifiable._

Jisung has been tense up until this moment, every hour without Dahyun reappearing heightening the anxiety in his chest. The note helps alleviate some of the tension, but adrenaline still courses through his body the next morning as he creeps through the halls, mask in hand. He slips it on before he leaves the palace, sneaking out of the grounds through a small hole in the wall that only he and Hyunjin - and Dahyun too, probably - know about.

Mina's fruit stand is easily recognisable among the bustling streets - covered in a distinct reddish-purple cloth close in shade to royal purple, yet different all the same. Dahyun's hair matches it well, Jisung realises, spotting her next to the stand with a large hat and goggles obscuring her features.

She's talking to Mina, who notices Jisung first and nudges Dahyun. Dahyun perks up instantly, bouncing to Jisung's side and tugging his arm enthusiastically.

"You made it!"

"Of course I did."

"Come on, you'll absolutely _love_ what I have to show you," she gushes, dragging Jisung past Mina's cart. She waves at him as they pass, and Jisung has no choice but to follow Dahyun to the docks, and then further beyond to a small alcove hidden from sight. People stare at Dayun as they walk by - her purple hair striking and bold against the browns and blondes of London, though none notice the two sneaking away to the hidden alcove - hidden for a reason, which Jisung soon finds out.

For something so large, Jisung doesn't notice the ship for a while, hovering a few metres above ground and casting a dark shadow on the two of them. The ship, while on second glance not very large at all, barely the same size as the smaller navy ships, exudes an aura that makes her feel larger than life, and Jisung can't help but gaze at in in awe, absorbing all the details that he can see.

And then his eyes fall on the name embellished in her side, gold and glimmering in the little sunlight there is, loopy lettering standing out against the ship’s side.

_Foxhound._

"I found her, Jisung,” Dahyun says. “Foxhound is _real._ "

"I can't believe this.”

"Believe it alright. You know what this means, don't you?"

“Aureus,” Jisung realises, eyes flicking to Dahyun as she nods in confirmation. Something swells in Jisung’s chest. "Jihyo went looking for Aureus. Do you - do you think she found her?"

"I do."

"And - do you think - could we find Jihyo?"

At this, Dahyun hesitates. "I don't know, Sungie. But I really want us to try. Foxhound will take us to her."

"I don't - know if I can."

" _Please,_ Jisung. Don't you want this? To have a chance to find your sister after all these years?"

"Yes, but-"

He has work. He has a kingdom to prepare to run. He has - inaugurations and balls and courting, he can't run away.

"I'll think about it. Just give me time to think about it."

"I can only give you a few days. The crew want to leave soon, and they will with or without you."

"I'll let you know, then. I promise."

Jisung scrambles away before he can see the disappointment on Dahyun’s face a moment longer, slipping back into the crowded streets and blending in, making his way to the marketplace. A bell chimes in the distance - _one, two times._ Jisung’s missed lunch, and as he realises this his stomach grumbles. He hadn’t realised so much time had passed with Dahyun.

He finds himself gravitating towards Mina’s cart, eyeing the apples on display.

“An apple, please.”

“Just one? What about your friend?”

“Not - not today.”

“You look troubled. Is something wrong, darling?”

Jisung pauses in contemplation, before determining there’s nothing dangerous about a fruit seller. “My friend wants me to make a decision between two … important things.”

Mina nods as if she knows exactly what Jisung is talking about. “You know what I think? Deep down, you already know what you want. You just need to decide: do you follow your heart, or your head?”

Jisung blinks. Somehow, Mina’s words helped. “Thanks, Mina.”

Mina smiles. “Don’t worry, Prince. I know you will make the right choice for yourself.”

He has no time to ask her how she knows who he is, caught up in the next customer. Jisung sneaks away and by the time he’s home, curled up in bed with the book hidden underneath, not only has he forgotten about it, but he thinks he knows his decision.

 

-

 

By far Jisung’s biggest dilemma is Hyunjin, which is why he finds himself seated on his bed two days later, pen by his side and paper in his hands empty. He’s meant to write a note, something that Hyunjin will find, but he had pulled out the parchment only moments ago and already he’s having second thoughts.

Leaving with Dahyun means leaving Hyunjin behind. Staying with Hyunjin means possibly never seeing Dahyun again, and never finding Jihyo.

But Hyunjin is almost never around anyway, and he’s been trained in ship language for years. If anything, he’ll find Jisung easier than Jisung would ever find Dahyun again.

And Dahyun has only said she _thought_ they could find Jihyo. The crew might not even like him anyway - he hadn’t met them earlier, only seen the ship.

But the temptation to find his sister after so many years is too much, and so Jisung finds himself picking up the pen once more, pressing it to the paper and scrawling a short message to Hyunjin. He tucks it away in the old book, resting it on his bed and scooping up the cat-face mask with the other hand.

Sneaking out the same place as he did just a few days earlier, he slips on the mask and ventures into the streets of London, blending into the crowd of common clothes and mechanical masks.

He passes Mina’s fruit cart on the way, who nods at him in recognition as he sneaks past, onto the hidden alcove. It’s easy to find now, and much like before no one pays him any mind as he slips through the gap.

Dahyun is waiting by the ship again, her eyes lighting up when she spots Jisung, racing over to him.

“You made it!”

Jisung grins and nods, accepting the hug Dahyun offers.

“We’re leaving in a few hours. Everyone is getting supplies right now so I thought, well,” Dahyun pauses. “We could see the city one last time?”

“Yeah, alright.”

The two make their way through the streets, eyeing the displays of food and trinkets for sale. They don’t buy anything, Jisung has almost never bought anything from the market, but he likes to look. While they walk, he looks around for any faces he might not recognise, any clothing different to London’s current fashion, anything that could be the crew of Foxhound. He doesn’t know anything about them, he realises shortly after, and gives up on looking. He’ll meet them soon.

At some point Dahyun disappears in the crowd, and Jisung is left alone. For a moment he panics when he realises he can no longer see the familiar splash of purple.

 _Think rationally, Jisung._ Dahyun and Jisung both know where the hidden alcove is, and how to get to it. It only makes sense for Dahyun to retreat there when she can’t find Jisung, so Jisung abruptly turns and walks the other direction.

He’s about to clamber into the alcove when someone grabs Jisung’s arm and spins him around so quickly he gets dizzy, stumbling back before he registers who’s in front of him. He gasps.

“Hyunjin? You weren’t supposed to be back…” he trails off when he sees the dark look in Hyunjin’s eyes. He’s rarely seen that look.

“I pulled some strings. It clearly didn’t matter though, since you’re leaving,” Hyunjin adds, a hint of bitterness laced in his words.

“Hyunjin…”

“I got your note.” He pauses, then lets out a frustrated sigh. “You’re leaving to find Jihyo? On _Foxhound_ of all ships?”

Jisung winces. “I am.”

“Are you _serious?”_

“I will not be alone, Jinnie,” Jisung responds, trying to placate Hyunjin. “They have a whole crew, and Dahyun knows them already.”

Hyunjin jerks back as if he he’s touched an electric wire. “Dahyun is _here_?”

“She arrived a few days ago.”

Hyunjin stares at Jisung for a long while. “Alright. Then I’m coming with you.”

“Wait, Hyunjin,” Jisung stumbles after Hyunjin, grasping his coat. “Think about this for a second first!”

“I have. So?”

“You can _not_ just up and leave!” Jisung protests, clinging to his arm and trying to tug him away. “What about your family? Your life?”

“What about _yours?_ ” Hyunjin counters. “You are meant to rule this country someday. Are you really going to throw it all away?”

Jisung falls silent. Hyunjin stares down at him stubbornly.

“You’re going the wrong way,” Jisung huffs eventually, hand falling from Hyunjin’s sleeve. He ignores the cheer Hyunjin lets out as he turns and makes his way to the alcove, Hyunjin following behind him.

Dahyun is waiting on the ground, chewing her lip anxiously. When she spots Jisung, she lets out a visible sigh of relief.

“I thought I had lost you,” she says, standing to make her way to Jisung, to tug him to the ship, then freezing when Hyunjin climbs into the alcove behind Jisung.

“Dahyun.” Jisung steps out of Hyunjin’s way, lets him race to Dahyun, halting in front of her.

“You’re even taller now, Jinnie,” she says, breaking out of her stupor, then laughs, embracing Hyunjin tightly.

“I thought I would never see you again.” Hyunjin steps back from Dahyun, stares up at Foxhound with something akin to awe in his gaze. “She is _beautiful._ Will the crew allow one more on board?”

“I - think so - _hey,_ what happened to _Foxhound isn’t a real ship?”_

“You _still_ remember that? It was _years_ ago!”

“Of course I remember! You broke our hearts!”

“I was _ten_ , and _dumb_ . And now I can _see_ Foxhound with my own two eyes so I _know_ she’s real.”

Dahyun rolls her eyes, lets out a _hmph_ and breaks into a massive smile. “Christ, Hyunjin, I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too, Dahyunnie.”

Dahyun gestures for Jisung to approach the two. “Let’s get going. Everyone else is on board.”

“Everyone else? How big is the crew, anyway?” Hyunjin asks.

“Five without us,” Dahyun replies, spinning around and walking off. “Come on, we board Foxhound this way.”

“Five? How do you manage a ship with only _five?_ ” Hyunjin mutters, but follows Dahyun anyway. Jisung doesn’t bother responding, figuring Hyunjin’s just talking to himself.

 

-

 

The figurehead is uniquely gorgeous, something Jisung doesn’t think he’s ever seen before. A woman with long, flowing hair covering most of her face cradles a small animal - a species of fox, Jisung thinks, with large ears and small holes where the eyes should be.

He touches the figurehead lightly, gasping at the _thrum_ of vibrations that emanate from it, a kind of warmth spreading through his fingers. He doesn’t know if it’s the force of the steam powered engine or the magic threaded through the ship that causes the thrum.

The hair of the figurehead — carved from wood, finely detailed — feels almost _real,_ like Jisung could run his fingers through her hair, feel the silky locks run through his fingers.

“Gorgeous, ain’t she?”

Jisung startles, turning abruptly to see a young woman staring — not at him, but at the figurehead, a slight smile on her face.

“Chaeng!” Dahyun cries, flinging an arm around the woman. “Meet Jisung, the prince. And this is Hyunjin. Jisung, Hyunjin — Chaeyoung, Foxhound’s newest captain.”

Chaeyoung nods at Jisung, then at Hyunjin, before turning to Dahyun with a stern look in her eyes. “I thought you were bringing one on board. I only prepared for one extra.”

Dahyun smiles sheepishly. “Hyunjin was a — late arrival. We can’t leave him behind, Chae.”

Chaeyoung sighs heavily. “I’ll alert the crew.”

Dahyun claps happily and hugs Chaeyoung, who looks disgruntled. Beyond that look, though, her eyes glimmer with fondness.

“Alright,” she pushes Dahyun gently off her, turns to Jisung and Hyunjin. “Dahyun, go take them to their sleeping quarters. I have to tell Minho and Woojin.”

And with that, Chaeyoung disappears, leaving Jisung feeling the slightest bit overwhelmed. Dahyun giggles at Jisung’s face.

“Don’t worry, Sung,” she says. “Chaeyoung is only a year older than you, she’ll warm up to you guys later. Now come on, let’s get you to your room.”

The cabin is located just below deck, sleeping quarters for half the crew, Dahyun tells them.The two who usually sleep here are Tzuyu and Jeongin, two names Chaeyoung hadn’t mentioned, the final two of the five crew members, but Minho and Woojin and Chaeyoung all have their own spaces.

There are three hammocks set up, and one thin mattress pushed against a small ledge next to a window. One of the hammocks is occupied, a girl — Tzuyu, Jisung assumes — swinging gently in it, book in hand. She drops the book on her chest — narrowly missing her face — when the door shuts behind Dahyun, startling upright, eyes wide and innocent. A locket hangs round her neck, swinging lightly from the sudden movement.

“So much for being the life of this ship,” Dahyun calls. Jisung wonders what she means by that. “You read too often.”

Tzuyu relaxes almost immediately when she spots Dahyun.

“Oh. It’s just you,” she says, then giggles when Dahyun sputters in indignation. When she turns to Jisung and Hyunjin, her brows furrow. “Why are there two?”

“Hyunjin here,” Dahyun pokes Hyunjin, “decided to come along.”

“I have experience with ships,” Hyunjin adds helpfully.

Tzuyu eyes Hyunjin once more, before shrugging nonchalantly and laying back in the hammock. “If Chae agreed, why not?”

“Chae didn’t have a _choice,_ ” Dahyun replies, grinning when Tzuyu lifts her head up to frown at Dahyun. “Hey, if you’re gonna glare at me all day why don’t you do it from the crows nest, huh?”

Tzuyu rolls her eyes. “Jeongin’s up there. Minho’s working on repairs so I’m not making any physical movements.”

“Minho should learn to do repairs late at night or when everyone is out.”

Minho sounds interesting, Jisung decides, and funnily enough, he runs into Minho, literally, only a few hours later. He’s searching for Hyunjin, who wandered off to find the kitchens, when he turns the corner and slams into someone who’s running the other way. The force is enough to knock Jisung to the floor as the stranger skids to a halt.

“ _Shit, sorry,”_ the man hisses, immediately extending a hand to help Jisung up. “You the prince or the other one?”

Jisung snickers at Hyunjin being called _the other one._ “The prince. Jisung.”

“Minho,” he claps Jisung on the shoulder and smiles crookedly at him. His smile is infectious - Jisung can’t help but smile back. “I’m our mechanic - keep Foxhound alive, make sure she works perfectly, keep her hearts beating, that sorta thing.”

“It’s nice to meet you.”

Minho laughs. “You talk so fuckin’ posh. You’ll needa change that if you’re ever gonna pass as one of us.”

“What do you mean?”

“Pirates like to target the weird folks. The ones who speak fancy or dress strange. When you don’t fit in it’s obvious.”

Jisung blinks. “Oh.”

Is it really so obvious how Jisung speaks? He’s never noticed common people in London speak differently, never noticed others comment on the way he speaks. He never even _realised_ he might speak differently to others - he’s been brought up in an environment surrounded by others who speak like him.

“Hey, don’t worry your pretty lil’ head about it,” Minho says, obviously sensing the discomfort on Jisung’s face. “You’ll speak like us in no time.”

“If you say so.”

Minho laughs again, high and bright. “It’s nice ta meetcha too, Sung. Kitchen’s downstairs, if you’re lookin’.”

Jisung nods gratefully, opening his mouth to thank Minho, but the man disappears before he can say anything.

Jisung doesn’t think about his compass until a while later, when Minho is busy at work keeping the engine running, too busy to be bothered by Jisung. He makes a mental note to ask him later.

After all, the compass still doesn’t point north, still moves erratically, and Jisung wants to know why.

He tucks it back underneath his shirt, the bronze cool against his skin, and decides to hunt for Hyunjin.

It’s been a while since he left, but Jisung doesn’t doubt that Hyunjin is still in the kitchens, or he’s gotten lost trying to find them. Jisung himself doesn’t know where the kitchen is, but he has a decidedly better sense of direction than Hyunjin, and is able to scout it out within ten minutes.

(It helps that the cook — who Jisung assumes is Woojin, by process of elimination — is currently preparing… something. Some kind of meat, if Jisung had to guess. Fish, maybe. The smell strengthens as Jisung gets closer to the kitchens.)

Sure enough, Jisung hears Hyunjin’s telltale giggle before he opens the kitchen doors, Dahyun’s bright laugh following behind.

The kitchen is warm, Dahyun and Hyunjin giggling over something the cook — Woojin — must have said. Woojin himself is handsome, with broad shoulders and a strong jawline and warm eyes.

He focuses said warm eyes on Jisung, letting out a cheerful wave and a _hello._ Jisung smiles back.

Dahyun and Hyunjin only just notice Jisung, their heads whipping around at an alarmingly similar rate, identical grins growing on their faces.

“Sungie!” Dahyun cries, gesturing for Jisung to sit between them. “Have you met Woojin yet?”

“He has now,” Woojin replies, grinning when Jisung snickers.

He’s the first to offer Jisung his hand to shake, which Jisung takes eagerly. His palm almost engulfs Jisung’s hand, embarrassingly, but it’s warm and rough with calluses, comforting.

“Woojin makes the _best_ food,” Dahyun says dreamily, resting her cheek on her hand. “The palace chefs can’t even _compare_.”

“Don’t exaggerate,” Woojin chides, but he’s grinning. “I’m just a cook, nothing special.”

“ _Nothing special!_ You’re a dirty liar, Kim Woojin,” Dahyun cries, collapsing on the bench.

“And you’re a distraction in the kitchen, Dahyunnie,” Woojin replies. “Get out or I won’t serve dinner.”

Dahyun gasps and bolts upright. “Leaving now!” Jisung, despite not at all being a part of this, is dragged away by Dahyun, a’s is Hyunjin. Woojin waves at them as they leave.

“Come back later without Dahyun!” he calls as the door shuts.

 

-

 

Minho seeks out Jisung late the next day, when Jisung is alone on the upper deck, admiring the clouds they race past.

“How’re you liking Foxhound?”

“She’s gorgeous. I haven’t been on a ship in _so_ long,” Jisung comments. His hands run over Foxhound’s railings delicately. “I’ll get used to it soon.”

Minho waggles his eyebrows. “I know something that’ll get you _used to_ it in no time.” He winks for extra measure.

“Are you propositioning me?” Jisung blurts.

Minho bursts out laughing. “Weird way to say _flirtin’,”_ he says through high pitched giggles. “You’re cute, Prince.”

Jisung flushes. “I am not cute,” he mumbles.

“ _Adorable._ ”

“I don’t — I mean-“

Minho stops laughing, raises one eyebrow. “Do you have someone already, Sungie?”

“What?”

Minho leans forward, a sly look on his face. “Lemme guess… it’s Hyunjin, ain’t it?”

“No — I mean he _is_ important to me but,” Jisung stammers, his face flushing further every minute.

“It’s okay, Ji. I won’t get in between you and your lover,” Minho giggles and makes a kissy face at Jisung. “Just be careful — love can be cruel.”

“Who’s cruel?” someone pipes up, and Jisung almost falls off his feet in shock. A young boy stands near Minho, appearing seemingly from nowhere, much like Tzuyu did. He’s taller than Jisung (really, who isn’t) with a wide mouth and interesting eyes and dimples when he grins. Like Tzuyu, a locket hangs from his neck, too small to know what hides inside.

Minho’s gaze softens immediately, eyes crinkling into a warm smile.

This must be Jeongin, then.

“Love, Innie,” Minho replies. “You ever fallen in love with someone?”

Jeongin shrugs. “I don’t need to when I have you and Tzu.”

Minho laughs. “You used to hate me, though, when my father retired. You’ll come around, no doubt.”

“It’s not like I can leave Foxhound anyway,” Jeongin mumbles, rolling his eyes. “I’ve gotta _wait_ for someone cute to come along.”

Grinning cheekily, Minho shoves Jisung forward. “Here’s someone cute!”

“Thought he’s got someone already,” Jeongin frowns.

“How much of our conversation did you hear?” Jisung blurts out.

Jeongin stares at Jisung. Something about it unsettles him. “I hear a lot of things, Jisung.”

It’s entirely _not_ the answer Jisung was looking for, but at the same time so vague yet completely unnerving. Jisung blinks, a shiver runs down his spine.

Jeongin’s eyes flick to the side, his head tilts like he’s listening to something. Jisung can’t hear a thing besides his own breathing and the steady creaking of wood underneath their feet.

“Chaeyoung needs me,” Jeongin says suddenly. He fidgets in place, tilts his head like he’s listening again.

Jisung blinks again, and Jeongin is gone.

“Jeongin and Tzuyu are the heart of this ship,” Minho explains. “They know a lot that we don’t.”

Jisung doesn’t understand but he nods along anyway.

 

-

 

“I really do not think this is necessary,” Hyunjin mutters, eyeing the front of the tattoo parlour with something akin to distaste.

To be entirely fair to him, the place is strange. A black door, dark windows that don’t look particularly inviting. Dahyun said it was credible, though, and the tattoo in particular she got - a small snake that slithers around her skin - looks stunning.

When Jisung had first seen it he hadn’t thought much of it, right up until it came to life on her skin, slythering up her arm and around her neck. A _good luck_ charm, Dahyun calls it.

“Everyone on Foxhound has had a tattoo from here. It’s just a tradition, I suppose,” Jisung replies. Hyunjin opens his mouth to argue, and Jisung shushes him with a hand pushed against his face. “You do _not_ get a say in this.”

Hyunjin stares at the tattoo parlour for a long while, before letting out a deep, heavy sigh. “I will do it, on _one_ condition.”

Jisung lets out a cheer, jumping up and down and grinning at Hyunjin, ready to make his way into the store. Then he registers the second part of the sentence and, pausing, turns to stare up at Hyunjin curiously. “What is the condition?”

Hyunjin’s head tilts to the side cutely as he contemplates. “Let me choose the tattoos we get.” An evil grin spreads across his face at the same time Jisung is sure dread spreads across his.

He says yes anyway, his chest warming when Hyunjin grins fully and hugs Jisung tight. He pushes away the feeling in favour of grinning back at Hyunjin and all but dragging him into the parlour.

The interior is simple and clean, and, other than Jisung and Hyunjin and whatever employees are working, empty. Currently though, there’s no one in sight.

Jisung wanders off, the massive folder at the front desk intriguing him. He flips it open to reveal hundreds of gorgeous designs, page upon page of possibilities. He turns back towards Hyunjin, to gesture him over, then freezes.

Hyunjin is gone.

“Jinnie?” Jisung calls hesitantly, “where did you go?”

“Oh! There you are!” A soft voice speaks out, a woman appears seemingly from nowhere, making Jisung jump. A mask is covering most of her face, only her dark eyes peering out.

“Are you Jisung?” Jisung nods. “Call me Em. Your friend has already chosen designs for the two of you. Just this way, please.”

And really, as far as Jisung knows, this could be a trap. Maybe the woman - Em - wants to take Jisung somewhere silent and kill him, or something. Somehow, though, Em’s eyes fill Josung with a sense of trustworthiness - there’s something familiar about them - and, against his better judgement, he follows her anyway.

He doesn’t even realise he’s been holding his breath until he spots Hyunjin in the next room, seated next to a tattoo machine, a small man next to him. Hyunjin doesn’t spot Jisung, focused on the tattoo currently being inked into his shoulder.

“That’s Changbin. He’s our best tattoo artist.” Changbin looks scary, covered in tattoos that move over his skin like separate entities. “Would you like to see the design Hyunjin picked out?”

When Jisung nods Em leads him to a new room, spotless, with its own tattoo machine next to a seat. Jisung sits when Em motions to the machine.

A slip of paper is dropped on Jisung’s lap.

“It’s a popular design for couples,” Em explains. “I see why Hyunjin chose this for you two.”

The words slip past Jisung unnoticed as he stares at the design. “Oh.”

He had - not been expecting this. Something personalised for him, maybe, something to indicate his royal status. Something Jisung wouldn’t _hate,_ but wouldn’t love either. Not - this.

Two black doves - on the paper they’re frozen in movement, spinning around each other like one step in an intricate dance.

“They’re gorgeous,” he breathes, tracing the design delicately.

Em nods. “I take it you’re pleased with Hyunjin’s choice?”

At Jisung’s nod, Em seats herself by the machine and pulls out a tattoo gun, switching it on.

Jisung flinches when Em touches the gun to Jisung’s skin, but the pain is bearable if he grits his teeth and admires the way ink is embedded into his skin.

It’s over before he even realises, the tattoo machine gone and pricks of blood rising to the surface, easily wiped away by Em’s cloth.

The birds are shadows against Jisung’s skin, black silhouettes, a clear outline of two doves. Em smears a thick cream over the tattoo, massaging it into the skin. The pain slowly disappears until Jisung could swear nothing had happened to his arm at all - only the stark black of the twin doves as any indication he’s gotten a tattoo.

Just as Jisung reaches out to gently touch his tattoo, one of the birds moves. Jisung gasps at the sensation - it feels like something is crawling under his skin, like an itch he can’t scratch, like the ink is shifting around as the bird gains its own consciousness.

“That one,” Em points to the slightly larger bird. “Is connected to Hyunjin. The other is you.”

As if in response, the larger bird flaps its wings, shuddering in a movement Jisung thinks is laughter. The smaller bird nips at the larger.

Em giggles at the sight, places a hand on Jisung’s shoulder comfortingly. “You and Hyunjin are good together - your love is pure. Make sure it stays that way.”

“We aren’t - I mean, he’s not…” Jisung trails off as Em’s eyes crinkle, and he suspects beneath that mask she’s smiling knowingly. “Thank you.”

“I’ll see you again, Jisung.” Em waves at Jisung as he leaves, voice carrying through the room despite how soft it is. Jisung smiles back.

Hyunjin is outside waiting for Jisung, grinning when he spots Jisung, eyes curving into crescents. He clutches his mask in one hand — a dog, Jisung isn’t sure what breed, the design similar to Jisung’s own cat mask. He’s borrowed it from Foxhound, the mask unused by Minho.

Jisung can see the tattoo from a distance, the birds circling Hyunjin’s bicep, hovering in place. Jisung’s own flap around his forearm, zooming up and down the smooth stretch of skin.

He doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to the feeling, not really.

“I have decided I like these,” Hyunjin announces, slinging an arm around Jisung’s shoulder. “I have to thank Dahyun for recommending this place. Changbin was really nice.”

Something flips in Jisung’s chest, his dove ruffles its feathers. He elects to ignore the feeling, leaning into Hyunjin as they don their masks and make their way back to the ship with birds fluttering around their skin.

 

-

 

It takes a week on the ship for Jisung to feel brave enough to approach Minho, who is constantly holed up in the engine room. He appears every few hours, for meals and to walk around the upper deck, but Jisung has never found those times convenient.

The burning itch to _know_ about his compass overtakes any other feelings he has about this as he excuses himself from Dahyun and Chaeyoung’s company and makes his way to the engine room, following the _thrum_ of the engine that only gets louder.

Jisung peers in, and gasps when he sees not one but two engines, working in sync together. Jisung’s only known about ships using one large engine, rather than two smaller engines working in tandem. The use of two engines make the room loud, too loud, but Minho hears Jisung enter anyway, turning to greet him cheerfully.

“Jisung! Are you here to win back my love after shattering my heart in tiny pieces?” Minho doesn’t shout, but somehow Jisung hears him clear as day despite the loudness surrounding them. The magic, Jisung supposes.

“Don’t be dramatic,” he rolls his eyes. “I need your help.”

This piques Minho’s interest, learning forward and raising both eyebrows at Jisung. “With love, or something else?”

“Something _else._ ”

“What is it then, young one?”

Jisung scowls at the nickname. He’s hardly younger than Minho is, anyway. He thinks. “You are the mechanic, yes?”

“Yes, Sung, I am, though if you want me to be your personal cupid I would _happily_ oblige.”

Jisung rolls his eyes but otherwise ignores Minho’s comments. Minho giggles, sharp and bright, which reminds Jisung of the compass hung around his neck.

“Could you,” Jisung tugs the compass out from his clothes, taking it off and handing it over. “This compass doesn’t point north. Could you - explain it?”

Minho takes the compass carefully, turning it in his hands gently. “I can’t fix it, if that’s what you’re asking,” he says eventually, handing the compass back to Jisung. “This wasn’t designed to point north.”

Jisung frowns. “Then what-“

“It points to something else.” Minho pauses. Looks at the compass, then frowns, thinking. “Some _one_ , probably.”

Jisung gasps. “Jihyo - she gave it to me. Could it be her?”

“Maybe. But don’t get your hopes up, it could be _anyone._ ”

“Thanks anyway, Minho.”

Jisung isn’t sure Minho hears him, the man already turned away and tending to the machinery again as Jisung exits the room. He soon forgets about Minho anyway, mind fixated on a new target.

Hyunjin. He needs to find Hyunjin and tell him this, what Minho’s just told Jisung. He darts off, compass still in hand.

Hyunjin is in the third place Jisung looks — that is to say, in their cabin, seated on the mattress by the window with a book in his hand. He glances up when Jisung enters, grinning widely and gesturing for Jisung to sit by him.

Jisung leans into Hyunjin’s side naturally, squishing him against the small window as he opens his fist, compass laying in his flat palm. Hyunjin’s arm curls around Jisung’s waist, book laying open, forgotten, in his lap.

A cloud drifts by, obscuring the window and their view of outside.

“I was talking to Minho,” Jisung says, not noticing the way Hyunjin stiffens up from beneath him. “He told me there’s a reason this compass does not point north.”

“Oh? What is it?”

“Someone or something,” Jisung replies. “It could point to some _one._ ”

He hears Hyunjin’s sharp intake of breath, realisation dawning on him similarly to Jisung. “You think it points to Jihyo.”

Jisung nods, lets Hyunjin scoop the compass into his own palm to inspect it. It looks small in Hyunjin’s hand — the compass covers most of Jisung’s palm, but much less of Hyunjin’s.

Hyunjin hums, turning the compass over in his hands and scrutinising it, before shrugging. “You might be right.”

He makes a move as if to give Jisung’s compass back then deciding against it, unclasping the chain and nudging Jisung towards him.

“Here,” he murmurs, draping the compass over Jisung’s neck and clasping it himself. His wrists press into the sides of Jisung’s neck, warm against his skin.

His hands linger, the chain falling from his fingers. One hand comes round to adjust the compass, brushing Jisung’s skin once more and coming close to feeling Jisung’s erratic heartbeat.

The doves play on Jisung’s stomach, spinning and whirling around. He wonders what they’re doing on Hyunjin’s skin — they’re hidden by his shirt, wonders if they’re going just as haywire as Jisung’s.

Hyunjin’s gaze bores into Jisung, eyes dark and warm. Jisung’s breath hitches, his eyes flicker to Hyunjin’s lips. He leans in imperceptibly, slowly, just as Hyunjin begins to do the same.

The sudden appearance of Jeongin shocks Jisung, enough that he almost falls off the makeshift bed, Hyunjin’s arm saving him from hitting the floor. Hyunjin lets go of Jisung almost immediately after, Jisung automatically distancing himself from Hyunjin as Jeongin grins at them.

“Woojin’s called for dinner,” Jeongin says, seemingly unaware of the awkwardness between Hyunjin and Jisung.

Jisung nods stiffly. “Tell him we will be there soon.”

Jeongin nods, disappears, and Jisung and Hyunjin are left alone. Tension simmers in the air, but the moment has long passed.

“We shouldn’t keep Woojin waiting,” Jisung says. Hyunjin nods.

Jisung’s mind is racing as they leave. He almost kissed Hyunjin. He almost _kissed_ his best friend. For now, he tries to shove the thought to the back of his mind as the smell of soup gets stronger, making his stomach growl.

He’ll deal with any feelings later.

(Or, preferably, never.)

 

-

 

Chaeyoung is the first to acknowledge Jisung’s new tattoo. Rather, she’s on deck with Jisung and Dahyun — the three of them waiting for Foxhound to dock — and she keeps staring at the birds that dip around his skin, mostly hidden by a shirt but fluttering over the backs of his hands and his collarbones every so often.

“Are those… black doves?” she asks, after a long stretch of silence.

Jisung nods. “Hyunjin picked out the design.”

That piques Chaeyoung’s interest. “So he’s got the same birds?”

Jisung nods again. Chaeyoung hums, eyes scanning Jisung for more glimpses of the tattoo. “They’re pretty,” she murmurs.

A few moments later, Italy comes into view from beyond the clouds, Dahyun gasping at the sight. Foxhound drifts down gently, buffeted by the wind but not enough for any major concern, and they dock with a slight _jolt_ that sends Jisung stumbling over his own feet.

The rest of the crew (sans Minho, Jeongin and Tzuyu) are ready to head out in no time, masks in hand and dress appropriate.

They exit the ship as a collective, but split off almost immediately to look for supplies. Jisung wanders off further than the others when a ship named _One_ interests him, for no reason other than she has a bright blue hull.

He admires her for a second, and when he turns around, everyone is gone. At first, he doesn’t bother panicking — he can just find them in the streets, or make his own way around before making his way back to the ship.

So he does just that — picks a random alley to walk up, marvelling at the handmade trinkets and gifts the smaller shops sell. It isn’t until what must be an hour later — an hour consisting of weaving through alleyways and exploring shops — that Jisung realises he is lost. Incredibly lost. So very lost, in fact, that he cannot even _begin_ to guess where Foxhound might be. His bird moves agitatedly over his arm.

He pauses in front of a store decorated entirely in purple — a familiar purple. It’s not something Jisung has ever seen before. Scrawled in curled font, painted an elegant gold against the purple drapes: _Miss Myoui’s Manor of Mysteries._ And underneath: _Psychic readings available today!_ The same thing — or what Jisung presumes is the same thing — is written in Italian.

In the distance, a clock chimes once, and Jisung pushes open the door.

The interior is entirely purple, velvet lining the walls of the shop, the shelves, the floor. Bottles of… things Jisung can’t be sure what they are line the shelves, all strange and mystifying in some way. But none of that matters: seated in the centre of the room by a table, with a crystal ball in front of her, is Miss Myoui. She’s draped in elegant fabrics, only her eyes peering out, heavily decorated with kohl and something that shimmers.

“Hello, stranger,” she says softly. “Are you here for a prediction? Sit down.”

Her voice is inviting, something in it tempting Jisung to sit. He shrugs at first, attempts to seem blasé. “How much is a reading?”

“Absolutely free of charge,” Miss Myoui replies.

Jisung sits. He’s got nothing to lose — he can always ask for directions afterwards. And maybe — maybe he wants Miss Myoui to predict his future, too.

Myoui leans over, taps the crystal ball with one finger. It clouds over instantly, and she places both palms on either side, staring intently into the glass. Jisung waits — nothing happens for a while.

“Jisung,” she says suddenly. Jisung jolts in place. “Jisung, you are troubled, are you not?”

Jisung chuckles lowly. “That’s an understatement.”

She nods. “I see… pain, in your future.” Her eyes flicker up to Jisung. “Follow your heart, but allow your head to take control sometimes. Your heart is volatile, it will get you in trouble.”

“Oh.”

Miss Myoui closes her eyes for a few moments. When she opens them, the crystal ball turns clear again.

“Is that all?” Jisung murmurs, though he’s not sure he wants to hear more of what Miss Myoui has to say.

“Yes.”

“Oh. Thank you, then,” Jisung bows his head, turning to exit.

“Oh, and Jisung?”

Jisung turns back around. “Yes?”

“Take two lefts when you exit this store and you will find yourself on the main road. Go right — it leads you to the docks.”

Miss Myoui winks at Jisung slyly, letting out a soft laugh. Jisung is sure to thank her profusely before he leaves, slipping his mask back on and making his way to the crowded main road.

He hears a cry of his name, his only warning before receiving an armful of Hyunjin, hugging him tight against his chest.

“We thought you ran off,” he says, after seeing Jisung’s confused expression. “I knew you wouldn’t, but…”

“Don’t be silly, Jin,” Jisung reaches out and squeezes Hyunjin’s hand tightly. “I just got lost, that’s all.”

“That’s all,” Hyunjin repeats, squeezing Jisung’s hand back. The two of them make no move to head back to Foxhound, Jisung still with one arm resting on Hyunjin’s waist, their hands still clasped firmly together.

A hand clamping down on Jisung’s shoulder makes him yelp loudly, heart rate spiking momentarily. Woojin’s laughter — his deep chuckles — is the first thing Jisung hears, and then Hyunjin is giggling too. Jisung pouts.

“You scared me,” he whines.

“Sorry, Ji,” Woojin shrugs (he’s not sorry at all) and nudges Hyunjin, who promptly straightens up. “Foxhound’s leaving soon. We should get back.”

“Yeah, yeah, okay.”

 

-

 

It’s a sunny afternoon when Tzuyu appears suddenly on deck, a frantic look in her eyes.

“ _Pirates,”_ she says, and that’s all the others need to know trouble lies ahead. Chaeyoung immediately busies herself with rerouting Foxhound, Minho disappearing below deck and, a few minutes later, Woojin appearing above deck with the others.

Jisung doesn’t see the pirate ship until a while after _that,_ but when it appears in his view his blood runs cold. The ship is far bigger than Foxhound, anyone can tell even from a distance, and when Chaeyoung returns to the deck with no explanation other than _they’re too fast,_ he feels his heart plummet.

The ship bumps into Foxhound with more force than necessary. Jeongin and Tzuyu wince.

Strangely, only two pirates walk out. The first, with bright orange hair, looks young, _really young,_ until he opens his mouth.

“Calm down, put your weapons down,” his voice resonates over Foxhound, deeper than anything Jisung could have imagined. The voice certainly doesn’t match his face. “We come in peace, really.”

The second pirate, taller, with black hair, nods. “Where’s your captain?”

Chaeyoung steps forward and glares at Ginger. “How do we know you’re not lying?”

Ginger chuckles. “How about this — I’ll give you our names. How’s that sound?”

Chaeyoung narrows her eyes, but relents. “Give us names, _and_ a reason why you’re here.”

“Sounds easy enough,” Ginger says. “I’m Felix, this here is Seungmin, and we’re looking for supplies.”

“What kind of supplies?”

Ging— Felix shrugs. “Food, water, gems — anything you want to give over.”

“Sorry,” Chaeyoung says, fave carefully blank. “You’ll just have to leave, then.”

An idea sparks in Jisung’s mind and before he can think twice, he jumps forward. “Actually! Just answer a few questions for us, and we’ll give you something.”

Jisung glances to Chaeyoung, shrugging sheepishly. She sighs, glares at him, then nods hesitantly.

Felix mulls it over for a moment. “Sure!” he agrees. “What questions do you have for us?”

“Do you know _Aureus?_ ” Jisung fires.

Felix tilts his head. “Aureus? Can’t say I’ve hearda her.”

Seungmin shakes his head. “No, we passed her earlier didn’t we? Few weeks back.”

Something like realisation dawns on Felix and he nods. “That’s right! She’s a gorgeous ship.”

“Did you really?” Jisung perks up. The birds hover by his chest, spiking up in excitement. “Did you speak to them?”

“Yeah, we chatted.” At that, Seungmin snickers. “Why’d you wanna know?”

“Was there someone called Jihyo on board?”

“Dunno,” Felix says, shrugging. “We just met the captain. No one else.”

Jisung slumps back, dejected. The doves under his skin stop moving. “Oh. Thank you anyway.”

“Great! Now that that’s over,” Felix grins at the others. “Where’s my loot?”

Chaeyoung gestures for Woojin to disappear downstairs, to collect food, probably. While they wait, Seungmin appears to fixate on something on Jeongin.

“That necklace,” he says suddenly. “How important is it?”

Jeongin snarls at Seungmin, hand closing around his locket protectively. “Don’t even _try.”_

With a grin, Seungmin just raises his hands defensively. “Just wanted my own treats.”

“Take what we give you and leave,” Chaeyoung growls.

Seungmin shrugs, miffed, but he doesn’t argue any further as Woojin returns from below, crate in hand. It’s loaded onto the other ship — Jisung doesn’t even know her name, and Felix and Seungmin disappear.

“That could’ve gone so much worse, I guess,” Chaeyoung mutters, as the other ship pulls away. “We’ll have to dock soon for more supplies, though.”

 

-

 

On land once more, this time in a country Jisung doesn’t recognise, Hyunjin grasps his wrist as they maneuvre along the streets, unwilling to let Jisung off on his own anymore, masks securely over their faces. Jisung lets Hyunjin drag him along, until the purple lettering of some kind of bar catches his attention.

He tugs at Hyunjin’s arm. “Jinnie!” he whines, pouting at Hyunjin. “Let’s go get something to drink.”

Hyunjin looks at the bar, then at Jisung, then at the bar again. “Alright,” he acquiesces, and now Jisung is tugging Hyunjin to the entrance, through a pair of heavy wooden doors.

They seat themselves at the bar. It doesn’t take long for a man to slide over to them, grinning slyly at them with dark eyes.

“Can I help you?” he asks, voice gravelly.

Hyunjin freezes imperceptibly, before smiling and asking for two drinks Jisung’s never heard of before. When the bartender turns round to make their drinks, Hyunjin leaps up, dragging Jisung out the chair.

“We need to go,” he hisses.

“What?” Jisung tries to tug himself out of Hyunjin’s grasp. “Hyunjin, my drink!”

“We need to _leave.”_ Hyunjin shoves through the wooden doors, continues to hurry away from the bar.

“Why? Hyunjin — don’t just _drag me out!_ ”

Jisung manages to wrench his hand out of Hyunjin’s grip, frowning at him with arms crossed over his chest.

Hyunjin sighs. “That bartender. I recognise him.” Jisun pauses. _What._ “It’s Changbin. He tattooed me earlier. I don’t think we can trust him.”

Jisung scoffs. “How’d he get all the way over here, then? _And_ get a job as a bartender while he did?”

“I don’t — know. I just know I _recognise_ him.”

“And because of that you can’t trust him?”

Hyunjin frowns, shoves Jisung further into a small alleyway where no one can hear them. “It feels like he’s _stalking us,_ Sung.”

“You _think_ you recognise someone and immediately he is stalking us?” Jisung rolls his eyes. “What’s next — are the pirates secretly trying to kill us all?”

Hyunjin laughs bitterly. “As a matter of fact, I do not trust Felix or Seungmin or _anyone_ in their crew even the slightest bit.”

“You are just _paranoid._ ”

“I would like to think I am _prepared_ for when something bad happens.”

Jisung can see Hyunjin’s birds on his neck, moving under the skin. One zooms forward and attempts to pierce the other with its claws, then with its beak.

“Are you saying I am not?”

“I’m _saying_ you trust too easily, Sung.”

The doves descend in a flurry of wings, intertwined in the worst way. They disappear below Hyunjin’s shirt, but Jisung can feel his own battling it out on his back.

It hurts.

“What is bad about trust?” his question is soft, meek, anything louder and it would be broken, shaky.

“ _Everything.”_

Jisung’s chest hurts.

“Fuck you,” he spits, staggering back when Hyunjin flinches. Turning tail, he runs away from Hyunjin. _As far away as possible._ Hyunjin doesn’t try to follow.

He finds himself lost again, winding through street after street after street just to get _away_ , to _escape_ , but he’s in a foreign country that speaks a language he doesn’t know, stuck in the middle of what feels like an ever changing labyrinth of streets.

A lump wells up in Jisung’s throat. He refuses to cry, shaking his head vigorously in an attempt to get rid of it. It jostles the chain around his neck, and he remembers his compass. It still doesn’t point north, but there’s no harm in taking it out, and he does so with shaky fingers, holding the compass unsteadily as he stares at it.

The needle moves. Not when Jisung moves — of its own volition. It moves again, clockwise, then slowly anti-clockwise. Jisung gasps. Whatever — _whoever_ — the compass points to, they’re close by.

 _Jihyo_ could be close by.

Jisung jumps when he hears a loud yell, turns to the source to find a man sprinting towards him, too far away for Jisung to see the look on his face. A _madman,_ probably. He stumbles back, then runs in the opposite direction, weaving through people and ducking into a small, dark alleyway to catch his breath.

He shuts his eyes, head tilted to the sky as he gulps in air, his lungs burning. He doesn’t hear the footsteps until it’s too late, a hand is already pressing him into the wall behind him.

Before Jisung can fight back, the mask is torn off him, and the man — it _is_ a man, slightly taller than Jisung and much, much older — stumbles away, looking shocked.

“Who gave you that mask?” he asks.

“Why the _fuck_ do you want to know?” Jisung retorts, glaring at the man and rubbing his shoulder.

“Just tell me,” the man says — pleads.

“My father. Who are you?”

“Christopher Bang.” The man forces a smile.

Jisung gasps, the name instantly recognisable. The number of times he’s stared at that name, searched for anyone with that name in London — and now, here he stands, having run into Jisung entirely accidentally. “You — you’re the author of that book.”

“I am. Call me Chris, though,” he adds, in a manner entirely inappropriate for the situation. He holds a hand out, probably for Jisung to shake.

Jisung ignores it. “So was it really all true? _All_ of it?”

“Of course,” Chris nods.

“How do you — know?”

“I have first hand experience.” Chris laughs bitterly. “See, Jisung, I _am_ the eldest brother.”

Jisung flinches back. “How do you know my name?”

Chris smiles. There’s something sad behind it. “I thought you would have picked up on it. Jisung. I said the book would go to who needed it most.”

Realisation dawns on Jisung ( _the brother had a daughter and a son)_ and then, abrupt denial. “No — you’re not -“

“You and Jihyo, you received that book for a reason. I hoped to one day see you again.”

_Again._

“No.” Jisung shakes his head, screws his eyes shut. “Shut up. Shut _up._ ”

“And I did.” Chan steps towards Jisung, who is too shocked to move. “You’ve grown up so well, Jisung.”

Jisung stumbles back. “You’re not my father.” _He’s not. He’s not._ “I’m not — _we_ are not — those children.”

“I am, Jisung. You _are._ Please believe me,” Chris pleads, stepping towards Jisung once more. Jisung backs out of the alleyway, shaking his head the entire time.

“Where’s Jihyo, then?”

“What?”

“You saw us both. So where is Jihyo?” Jisung demands. “She has to be around here _somewhere._ ” He grips his compass, waits for the needle to move. It does, slowly turning until it points towards Chris.

No. No no _no,_ the compass is supposed to point to _Jihyo,_ not — not _him._ Jisung’s eyes burn, the doves around his heart only aggravate the pain in his chest.

Through it all, Chris shakes his head sadly. Jisung’s heart rate spikes in his chest, fear gripping him tightly.

“What did you do to Jihyo?”

“ _Nothing_ . She found Aureus, found _me,_ but…” he trails off, looking like he’s in pain.

“And _what?”_

“Just a month ago, Aureus was destroyed.” No no _no._ “Pirates attacked us, we couldn’t save Aureus or any of the crew. I don’t even know how _I_ survived. But that’s not — not what happened to Jihyo.”

Chris pauses, sighs, stares at Jisung. “I’m so sorry, Jisung.”

“You mean-“

“She ran away. Disappeared one night. I don’t know how she left, but she’s gone.” The words hit Jisung like a bullet to the chest.

“ _No_ .” Jisung stumbles back. “No, she wouldn’t run away. She _wanted_ me to find her.”

“I’m sorry,” Chan steps forward. Jisung jolts away.

“Get away from me.”

“Jisung, please just listen to me,” Chris begs. Jisung shakes his head frantically.

“No. Just — _leave_. Please,” his voice breaks on the last word.

Chris leaves, and Jisung is left alone in the busy streets. His legs suddenly give out from under him and he’s forced to sit, burying his face in his hands.

And now, alone, he allows himself to cry, sobbing into his hands freely, unabashedly. The compass slips from his hands and crashes to the ground, the glass shattering into pieces, feeling like an awful mockery of Jisung’s heart, aching in his chest as he continues to sob, hiccuping and choking on heavy breaths.

And then, when he’s exhausted himself, cried himself dry, he stares at nothing - the grey slab of concrete below his feet, the pebbles littering the ground blurring into one mass - sitting for God knows how long.

He feels empty.

It’s Minho who finds him like this, scoops up Jisung’s compass and mask and nudges him, tugs at his shoulders with gentle hands, lets Jisung sag against his side, guides him back to the ship.

“Aureus is gone,” he says hollowly. “Destroyed by pirates.”

Minho freezes. “Jisung…”

“Jihyo wasn't even there.”

“You need to rest.”

“She’s gone.”

Jisung barely registers Minho shaking his head as he pushes Jisung to the cabins, seats Jisung on his thin mattress.

“I’ll never find her.”

Minho squeezes Jisung’s arm, drags him into a rough embrace. Jisung is too numb to appreciate it, doesn’t sink into the hug like he would normally do, and Minho lets go of him after a moment.

“I’m getting Woojin, Sung. Wait here.”

Minho slips out the door. Jisung doesn’t know how long Woojin takes — could be hours, minutes, seconds, but the man appears with a bowl of steaming soup, which he settles near Jisung.

The smell makes him feel sick, but he doesn’t tell Woojin that, just locks the door behind Woojin as he leaves, trudging back to his bed and staring out the window blankly.

A few lone tears slip down his face. He rubs them away angrily.

“Jisung?”

Jisung’s eyes flick up to Tzuyu, standing by Jisung’s side. “How’d you get in here?” he mutters.

“Dahyun and Hyunjin are waiting outside,” she says in lieu of a response. “Do you want to talk to them?”

Jisung winces. The last words he had spoken to Hyunjin had been… less than nice. No doubt Hyunjin’s told Dahyun already. “Not — not right now.”

“Okay. Shall I leave?”

Jisung begins to nod, then changes his mind halfway through. He doesn’t think he can handle being alone. “No. Stay. Please.”

Tzuyu nods, sits beside Jisung, offering her hand. Jisung takes it gratefully, warmth spreading through his fingers. It’s something other than the numbness in his chest.

“Losing someone is hard. I know the feeling well.”

Jisung glances up at Tzuyu curiously. “Who did you lose?”

Tzuyu hums. “A lot of people. Minho’s father. Chaeyoung’s father. Woojin’s parents. A lot of our old crew. Pirates came one night, and suddenly we five were all that was left.”

“And your parents?” Jisung asks, leaning into Tzuyu slightly.

Tzuyu shakes her head. “I never had parents. I suppose Minho and his father are the closest I’ve had, but they just take care of me.” She sighs, leans into Jisung. “I have always been like this. I watch people come and go, and it never gets any easier.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

Tzuyu shakes her head. “Don’t be. I like my life now.” She tightens her grip on Jisung.

“Tzuyu,” Jisung murmurs. “Do you think I’ll ever find her?”

“Maybe she doesn’t want to be found.”

“What if she’s…” Jisung cuts himself off. He doesn’t want to think about it.

“She’s not,” Tzuyu says firmly, stroking her fingers through Jisung’s hair. It’s calming.

-

 

Jeongin is curled up next to Tzuyu when Jisung wakes up. As far as he knows, the door is still locked. Tzuyu is already awake, brushing Jeongin’s hair with her fingers, smiling fondly down at him.

“Are you feeling better?” she whispers, as Jisung hauls himself upright.

“I guess,” he mutters.

Tzuyu smiles, squeezes his hand once more. When Jisung smiles back, it doesn’t come out forced.

“Go talk to Hyunjin and Dahyun,” she encourages, nudging him forward.

Jisung takes a moment to find his footing, unlocking the door and tip toeing out. He doesn’t know where Hyunjin is, so he checks the kitchens first.

Hyunjin’s face lights up and he barrels into Jisung, hugging him tightly. Jisung returns the embrace, burying his face in Hyunjin’s chest.

“I’m sorry. For earlier,” Hyunjin mumbles.

“Earlier?” Truthfully, Jisung’s felt like he’s in a haze ever since Chris (is he _really_ Chris?) broke the news.

“I shouldn’t have yelled at you. I’m sorry, Sungie.”

Oh. Jisung remembers now. He hugs Hyunjin tighter.

“Thank you,” he whispers. He doesn’t mention Jihyo. It hurts too much to think about her.

(To think about the note she left seven years ago, to think that after all this time, she doesn’t _want_ Jisung to find her.)

In fact, for two weeks he doesn’t mention her to anyone except Tzuyu and Jeongin, who sit with him at night when Dahyun and Hyunjin are asleep. Jisung doesn’t sleep much except for fitful bursts every so often.

On nights when he’s especially tired he clings to Hyunjin, who rocks him to sleep. But he hasn’t told Hyunjin yet, or Dahyun, and he tries to avoid them as much as possible when he’s tired and vulnerable.

He ends up revealing everything to both Chaeyoung and Dahyun at once — they’re up on deck together, Dahyun mentions Jihyo, and suddenly all of Jisung’s emotions come flooding out. Dahyun hugs him, and that night she stays with him, curls around him until he’s asleep. Chaeyoung shows her support too, treating Jisung carefully during the day, giving him less work to do around the ship.

When they dock again — in South Korea, this time — Hyunjin confronts Jisung on the upper deck, early in the morning.

“When were you going to tell me?” he asks, grabbing Jisung’s wrist. His eyes shine with i shed tears.

“Tell you what?”

Hyunjin lets out a frustrated sigh. “That Jihyo disappeared.”

“I don’t know,” Jisung stares at the ground and shrugs. He hates that look in Hyunjin’s eyes. Like he’s been betrayed.

“Jisung,” Hyunjin warns.

Jisung shakes his head. He feels sick. “I’m sorry, Jinnie,” he mutters. He stumbles back. Foxhound’s railing digs into his back uncomfortably. Jisung glances behind him, then back at Hyunjin. The sick feeling worsens. ( _Guilt,_ is that what it is?)

Jisung runs, slips down the ladder on Foxhound’s side, and darts off.

 

-

 

Jisung should have known that running away alone would only bring trouble. He _should have known._ All other times it has — why would now be any different.

Though now _is_ different, because this thread is very much real, in the form of one pirate strutting towards him with a dagger in one hand, blade gleaming silver, and Jisung is stuck in a dead end alleyway, no way for him to escape but _towards Seungmin._

“Hello, _Prince_ ,” Seungmin says, once he’s stepped up close to Jisung.

“Seungmin,” Jisung grits out. “How do you know what I am.”

Seungmin laughs. “You think your father wouldn’t send out search parties? There’s a reward for your return, did you know?”

“What do you want.”

“What do I _want_ ? My _reward,_ of course.”

Jisung glances to the side, tries to gauge how easily he could slip away, and is met with a knife to the throat, the cool metal pressing against his skin enough to be noticeable, yet not enough to pierce the skin.

“You won’t get — a _damn reward_. I’m not even the real prince,” he hisses, freezing when Seungmin presses ever so slightly on the handle.

“Don’t be stupid,” Seungmin laughs lowly. “ _Prize money_ isn’t what I want.”

“Then-“

“I _want_ Foxhound.”

This time, Jisung laughs. “You’ll never get _Foxhound.”_

“You may not think so, but I beg to differ. How much do you know about Foxhound?”

“Nothing.”

“Let’s try again. Tell me what you know, _Prince,_ ” Seungmin spits. “Or I will send you back to your kingdom in _pieces._ ”

“Fuck you,” Jisung hisses, before yelping when Seungmin pushes on the knife. Jisung feels it break the skin. “I don’t _know_ anything!”

“Don’t fucking lie to me,” Seungmin snarls. “I’ve destroyed one ship already, I’ll do it again.”

“You,” Jisung gasps for breath, tries to angle himself away from the knife as he processes this new information. “You are the ones who wrecked Aureus, aren’t you?”

He feels the doves move wildly across his skin, hidden underneath his shirt.

Seungmin laughs harshly. “You’re observant, Prince. Why don’t you observe my knife for a moment, where it sits on your _throat,_ and tell me how I can steal Foxhound.”

“You can’t.”

Neither Seungmin not Jisung say this, the voice ringing out loudly through the alleyway. Seungmin drops the knife, scrambling off Jisung in shock.

“How-“

Chris grins at Seungmin, advancing on him slowly. “How _what?_ How did I survive?”

A hand wraps around Jisung’s arm. “Come with us, Jisung,” Mina whispers. “Chris can handle Seungmin.”

Jisung follows Mina and — is that Changbin? out the alleyway, too shocked to wonder what she’s doing here. They wait for Chris there, leaning against a wall as Jisung gently touches the wound on his neck. It stings, but nothing else.

It doesn’t take long for Chris to emerge from the alley, shoving Seungmin in front of him. The pirate is tied by his wrists, and Jisung watches as Chris secures Seungmin to a street lamp, the pirate muttering curses at Chris the entire time.

“Now that that’s handled,” Chris turns to Jisung, stares him in the eyes. “Can we talk?”

 

-

 

The church is empty at this time, and that’s where the four of them find themselves, Jisung sitting across from the other three and looking at them expectantly.

“I’m really not a prince, am I?”

Chan shakes his head. “Just my son.”

 _My son._ The words send a pang of… something through Jisung’s chest. “Right, okay,” he swallows. “So my whole life, the person I thought I was. I’m really — not.”

“You’re still _you,_ ” Mina pipes up. “Whether you are a prince or not does not define you as a human.”

Jisung bites his lip anxiously. He’s not so sure.

“What about you, anyway?” he asks, changing the subject. “How did you get here?”

Mina laughs airily. “Jisung, I’ve _always_ been with you. I gave you that tattoo, you know.”

Jisung glances at his arm. The birds are resting now, nestled in the crook of his elbow. The larger one twitches every so often.

Em. Em, like the _letter M._ M for _Mina._

“You mean — you’re _Em._ ”

“My full name is Myoui Mina,” she says, smiling gently.

_Miss Myoui._

“But — why?” Jisung stutters. “Why follow me around? You and Changbin, why?”

“Don’t you remember the tale?” Changbin asks. “Chris summoned us.”

_Guardian angels, to guide Jisung home._

“Oh.” Jisung lets out a whimper and buries his face in his hands, heart racing a mile a minute.

“Jisung?” Chris rests a hand on Jisung’s shoulder hesitantly. Jisung doesn’t shove it off. “Are you alright?”

Jisung breathes deeply one, two, three more times. “Yeah,” he replies. “It’s just — a lot to take in. I need some time to — accept this. I think.”

“I understand,” Mina says.

Jisung doesn’t get _any_ time, however, as the second he lifts his head he feels movement on his skin.

Hyunjin’s bird is running wild, shooting up and down Jisung’s arm erratically, panicked. Jisung curses under his breath, tries not to show how fast his heart rate is picking up.

“Hyunjin’s in trouble. We need to get to Foxhound _now._ ”

 

-

 

As Jisung climbs the ladder to board Foxhound, he has the horrid thought that maybe Hyunjin isn’t on board at all. Maybe he’s off somewhere else, in peril, needing help but not getting it because Jisung —

He shakes his head roughly, tries to clear his mind of the mental image. He can hear the sounds of battle anyway, the _clash_ of swords and the occasional stray _bang_ of a cannon firing or a gun going off.

As he climbs over the rail, he spots Dahyun first, and he breathes a sigh of relief when he notices she’s fine. She’s against a man twice her height and beefy as all hell, but she holds her own against him well. Chaeyoung is close to Dahyun, fending off her own attacker. Jisung spots Jeongin and Tzuyu and Woojin, but no Minho or Hyunjin.

Tearing off his mask, Jisung drops it to the floor without a second thought, racing down to the engine room, sneaking round the side of the ship to avoid being spotted.

He spots Hyunjin and Minho there, fighting off a group of pirates — _Seungmin_ is there, too, battling Hyunjin with little mercy. Even with Jisung joining them they’re outnumbered by Seungmin’s crew.

Jisung hasn’t seen the ginger, Felix, anywhere. He had previously assumed him to be the captain, but he should be fighting alongside Seungmin if he is.

He doesn’t have any time to dwell on the thought — one of the crew spots Jisung immediately, jumping to attack him. _Shit,_ Jisung doesn’t have a sword, resorting to ducking and dodging as he clambers over to where Hyunjin is.

Just as Hyunjin knocks a sword out of one of the pirate’s hands, Jisung reaches him, lunging to grab the sword himself.

Hyunjin knocks the pirate out, kicking him away from the centre of the room. Jisung ducks as a pirate swings at him, grinning as Minho sneaks up behind him to knock him out. Seungmin has disappeared, but Jisung pays him no mind as he focuses on defending himself, staying alive and protecting Foxhound.

Just as Hyunjin knocks the last pirate unconscious, a loud _bang_ echoes throughout the room. Jisung freezes, hearing Minho’s wail of pain and waits for someone — Minho — to collapse to the floor, until he looks up and sees Seungmin pointing his shotgun at the one of the engines.

Minho stares at the engine as it begins to sputter, distraught. Everyone is frozen except Seungmin, who lowers his gun with a smile on his face.

Jisung feels the precise moment the ship begins to fall from where it’s been suspended, as his stomach drops. A loud _crash_ echoes throughout the room.

“What have you done,” Minho says hollowly, sinking to his knees.

A clatter of footsteps is heard, Dahyun and Jeongin the first to burst into the room, racing to Minho’s side immediately.

Jisung’s heart sinks when he sees who follows. Woojin is carrying Tzuyu, cradling her in his arms as Chaeyoung follows behind. Beyond them, Chris and Mina and Changbin are all following. Jisung hasn’t even realised they’d boarded the ship to help.

Woojin crouches down beside Minho, laying Tzuyu on the ground. Minho lets out a broken sob. Tzuyu doesn’t move beyond shallow, raspy breaths.

Jisung understands now.

_The hearts of the ship._

Physical embodiments of Foxhound. Their hearts beating in time with the engines. And Tzuyu — she’s been shot in the heart. _Foxhound_ has been shot in the heart.

Jeongin crawls beside Tzuyu, cradling her head in his lap and staring at her intently, like he‘s thinking of something. He doesn’t move his gaze from Tzuyu, not even when Chris grabs Seungmin from behind, wrenching the gun from his hand and tossing it to the ground.

“Why,” Minho’s voice breaks. “Why do this?”

“I think,” Jeongin’s voice wavers. “I think I can do something.”

“Jeongin — _no,_ ” Woojin warns.

“No, listen to me. If I…” he pauses, grabs Tzuyu’s locket and his own, opening them both. Inside each locket is a small green stone, perfectly round and almost identical.

Jeongin’s glows brightly, almost blindingly, where Tzuyu’s is dull. Jeongin tips the stones into one palm, closes his fist around them.

“What are you doing.” Chaeyoung reaches for Jeongin, but Chris stops her, holding her back.

Jeongin’s hand shakes and he seems like he’s about to collapse, but he keeps his fist shut, stays upright as he stares at Tzuyu’s unconscious face.

It feels like time slows down, and the more seconds that tick past, the more Jeongin grows pale, the more Jisung worries.

When Jeongin opens his fist, the stones are identical. He sways on the spot dangerously, but doesn’t collapse. He’s careful to replace the stones, slinging the lockets back around their necks.

And Tzuyu wakes up.

 

-

 

The compass needle wavers back and forth as it tracks Chris’ movements. Jisung watches it silently, curled up alone on his bed with the door to the cabin locked shut. He kind of wishes Tzuyu or Jeongin were here to keep him company, but they’re still too weak to travel far within Foxhound.

The needle shivers, then starts moving steadily, slowly, until it stops, pointed towards the locked door.

Three succinct knocks echo through the room. Jisung’s eyes flick up.

Sliding off the windowsill, he pads to the door and unlocks it. Chris stands behind it, smiling at Jisung and stepping inside.

He has dimples, Jisung realises — they look strange on a middle aged man.

Chris sits down on Dahyun’s hammock, keeping his distance from Jisung.

“What did you do with the pirates?” Jisung asks, settling the compass down by his side.

“Locked up,” Chan replies, “maximum security, where they belong.”

Jisung sighs in relief. “So we can repair Foxhound easily now?”

He pauses, stiffening in his seat. “You _will_ stay, won’t you?”

“I’ll stay as long as I can help.”

Jisung frowns. It’s not the answer he wants, but he supposes it’s the best he’ll get. He doesn’t speak, Chris standing up and slipping back out the door.

“You know if you ever need me, you can find me,” Chris says, nodding towards the compass.

Jisung finds himself smiling. “Yeah, thanks…”

Chris shuts the door.

“Father,” Jisung whispers. His hand clutches the compass tightly.

 

-

 

From where Jisung stands, next to the figurehead, Foxhound looks a mess.

The mast is snapped in half, the sails torn to shreds, the ground littered with empty masks and guns and other weapons. Jisung spots his own mask — Chris’ mask, really — and he scoops it up, cradles it in his hands. One of the ears — from the side covered in fur — is missing. The glass covering the eye is cracked, though not yet shattered.

Footsteps echo from a distance, and Jisung glances up to see Hyunjin. He moves to Jisung, standing beside him silently. He doesn’t speak, simply gazing at the deck with Jisung. Jisung feels him each out a hand, he tangles his fingers briefly with Hyunjin’s before letting go again.

“I’m sorry,” Jisung says after a long pause.

“Jisung-“

“This is all my fault.”

“This isn’t your fault.” Hyunjin snags Jisung’s shirt sleeve, Jisung yanks it away.

“It _is._ If I hadn’t dragged you into this - if I just _believed_ you.”

“Jisung.”

“I didn’t listen to you or anyone else. Look where we are now,” he mutters bitterly, furiously wiping away a tear that slips down his face.

“ _Jisung_.” Hyunjin cups Jisung’s face in his hands, crouches so he’s eye level with Jisung, staring at him seriously. His eyes are still filled with warmth. Jisung doesn’t understand why.

“What,” Jisung mumbles, eyes flicking away from Hyunjin’s.

“Jisung, listen to me.” Hyunjin crowds closer to Jisung, Jisung’s heart quickening at their proximity. Jisung nods, eyes glancing everywhere _but_ Hyunjin’s eyes. Pausing, Hyunjin bites his lip like he’s collecting his thoughts.

“I am — _so_ deeply in love with you. I have been since we were fourteen.” Jisung jolts, “You didn’t drag me into _anything._ Believe me when I say I would go to the ends of the earth for you.”

“You really mean it?”

“Do I have to prove it to you?” Hyunjin asks, eyes boring into Jisung’s.

Jisung gulps, nods once timidly.

He’s unprepared for Hyunjin to lean in slowly, pressing his lips against Jisung’s softly, sweetly. Jisung squeaks embarrassingly, freezing momentarily as his brain malfunctions.

Faintly, he feels the doves on his skin moving back and forth, fluttering about anxiously until he regains functionality of his body and presses back, sinks into the kiss.

His arms find their way around Hyunjin’s waist, mask dangling from his fingers as he deepens the kiss. Hyunjin caresses Jisung’s cheek with his thumb, the other hand travelling down to grip his waist, rubbing circles softly into the skin.

The doves dance around until they’re fluttering over Jisung’s heart, spinning around and beating their wings in time with his heart.

They pull apart, Jisung’s lips still buzzing, chests heaving as they make no other move away from each other. Their breaths mingle, foreheads pressed together for a moment before Jisung feels overwhelmed with emotions, burying his face in Hyunjin’s neck.

“I will _always_ stay by your side, Jisung,” Hyunjin whispers. “Forever.”

 

-

 

(With Chris’ help, Foxhound is repaired within three months. She’s not the same, not really, but she’s alive. The engines are fully repaired, and though Tzuyu and Jeongin’s stones don't glow as much as they should, everything is fine. When they set sail early in the morning, Chaeyoung plots out a route to take them back to her home.

Jisung’s birthplace.)

 

-

 

“We can’t go back to London,” Jisung mutters, as Hyunjin comes up to hug him from behind.

He can’t stop reading the paper in front of him, the article displaying an ugly portrait of Jisung and an even uglier image of Hyunjin.

“Outlawed by the King himself,” Hyunjin laughs shortly. “I never imagined that would happen to me. Or you.”

“Do you regret this?” Jisung looks up at Hyunjin.

Hyunjin shakes his head reverently. “Never. Not when I’m with you.”

 

-

 

(“Are we pirates now?” Jisung asks, cradled in Hyunjin’s arms as they watch the clouds pass them.

“I guess we are.”)

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> whew
> 
> [note as of jan 10th 2019: author reveal! yeah, its me!! hello!! im so glad to have been a part of this fic exchange and im looking forward to more! ive changed the upload date on this fic too, now that this fic is no longer anonymous hehe]


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